To Change the Galaxy
by AwayOHumanChild
Summary: Sabé is an ordinary woman whose friends have gone off the deep end. Padmé is determined to ignore her pregnancy. Anakin looks like he hasn't slept in a month and might be delusional. Even Obi-Wan is acting weird. With the galaxy growing darker by the day, it'll take everything Sabé has to prevent things from falling apart. Or try to, at least. It's not looking good at the moment.
1. Prologue

_To Change the Galaxy_

 **A/N: To everyone new: Hi! I'm glad you're here! As an FYI, Galaxy is the final story in a trilogy that's getting more AU as it goes. So, I'd recommend either a) reading both To Save the Queen (sorry in advance for the weird commas found in the first few chapters) and To Die for the Republic first, so that you can begin this story without any confusion, b) reading the prologue of Queen, chapter 34 of Republic, and accepting that you're still going to be kinda confused, c) deciding that Galaxy won't be confusing and frustrating but, rather, an exciting chance to utilize your detective skills, or d) finding something else to read, which would be a sad but understandable choice. To everyone who read Republic and/or Queen: Hi guys! I'm so glad you're back! And we've finally reached Galaxy! I'm really excited :)**

 **Disclaimer: George Lucas created the prequels, Disney owns Star Wars, and Sweet Christabel made the completely fantastic cover image.**

Prologue:

I was standing in a sea of white, feeling as though I'd found myself in the middle of a canvas that hadn't been painted on yet.

In front of me, sitting on nothing, with their legs dangling off a non-existent ledge, were two little girls with dark hair. They were talking intently to one another, but their words got lost in the whiteness, leaving me to watch a conversation I couldn't hear.

I'd had this dream before, so I didn't bother trying to catch either of the girls' attention. I already knew that none of my attempts would work. I'd also discovered I was absolute rubbish at lip-reading, so I didn't bother with that either. This time, I watched the girls' faces.

The one who was doing most of the talking had an excellent sabacc face. The other girl, the one who was a younger version of me, was almost embarrassingly expressive.

Somewhere along the line, I knew I'd developed an impressive sabacc face of my own. I wouldn't have been chosen as Queen Amidala's decoy if I'd remained so easy to read, after all. However, clearly, my twelve year old self had yet to master the skill. Or possibly even realize that a sabacc face might be useful.

Unfortunately, despite the fact that my twelve-year-old self was broadcasting her feelings loud and clear, her thoughts on the conversation weren't overly helpful. She mostly looked overwhelmed and bewildered. Occasionally, seemingly just for variety, she'd look patently disbelieving or appear to be doing her level best not to burst into hysterics.

All the while, the other girl kept talking calmly. Finally, my younger self started, looking around wildly. Before the other girl could say anything more, my younger self faded away.

The other girl sighed and, this time, I heard her. She turned to face me.

This wasn't the first time this girl had visited me in my dreams. I had dreamt of her when I was ten, twelve, and eighteen. The information she had shared with me in my dreams had saved my life several times over.

And now, almost a decade later, I had been dreaming of her every night for over a month. Every time, she said almost exactly the same thing. She warned me that Naboo was going to be nearly destroyed, that the galaxy was going to tear itself to pieces, and that she was going to burn. Every time, she told me to be prepared because, if I was lucky enough and ready enough, I could stop it all from happening. However, she didn't seem to remember that we'd had basically the same conversation multiple times already. So, she had yet to tell me any useful information about how, exactly, I was meant to stop things from going so horribly wrong. But that was going to change.

"Hello Sabé," said the little girl who burned.

"Hi," I said before cutting straight to the chase. "So, Naboo's going to be destroyed, the galaxy's going to tear itself to pieces, and you're going to burn. Which is terrible. I'm very sorry about all that. However, I have it on good authority that I'm going to be able to prevent some of that from happening. Do you have any ideas how, exactly, I'm going to be able to do that?"

The little girl blinked at me for a moment.

I raised my eyebrows at her in question and waited, trying not to seem too impatient. After all, she was just a kid and she didn't seem to remember any of the other conversations we had. It wasn't her fault this whole situation was a little bit infuriating.

Finally the girl shrugged and said, "Well, you'll have to change the galaxy, obviously."

My mouth fell open. She stared at me pleasantly, as though she hadn't just told me to do the impossible or watch as my planet, my home, was destroyed.

"Change the galaxy?" I demanded, my head whirling. "Oh, is that all? Just change the entire galaxy? Oh, well, then. That should be a piece of cake. No problem at all." Hysteria bubbled up in my stomach. " _How in the_ _stars am I supposed to do that?_ "

The girl's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? Why are you so upset about all this? Changing the galaxy is easy. All you have to do is—"

 _BEEP._

What was—oh no. No, no, no. I could not wake up. Not now. Not while I still knew nothing!

"Quick!" I urged the little girl, hurriedly reaching forward to grab her by the shoulders. "What do I have to do? Tell me!"

 _BEEP._

The world began to shake apart around us.

The little girl looked up at me solemnly. "It's starting."

That was alarmingly new. She'd never said that to me before.

"What's starting? Oh, never mind!" I shook my head and focused on the task at hand. "What do I have to do to save you and Naboo? Please!"

 _BEEP._

The little girl started fading away. Her shoulders became insubstantial in my hands, but her dark eyes were steady on mine.

"Be prepared, Sabé," she told me, her voice far too serious for her young face. "It's finally starting."

 _BEEP._

My eyes snapped open, the darkness of my bedroom a stark contrast to the white world of my dreams. My heart thudded a furious tempo in my chest as I gasped for air.

 _BEEP._

Of all the times for someone to comm me…

Muttering curse words, I rolled over in bed and began running my hand over my bedside table, searching for the comm link.

 _BEEP._

I fumbled with it for a moment before finally answering.

"Hello?" My voice was still heavy with sleep.

"Sabé?" a panicked voice rang out from my comm link. "Oh, thank the stars! Sabé, I need you to take the job on Coruscant! I know you were thinking of staying on Naboo and I am so sorry for being so selfish, but I can't do this on my own!"

I blinked down at the comm in my hand.

"What?" I recognized the voice. I knew I did.

As the person on the other end of the comm continued to babble a bunch of terrified, indecipherable nonsense at me, I did my best to place the voice.

"Padmé?" I finally asked, bewildered. It sounded like her but I literally could not remember the last time I had heard her sound so frightened. "Is that you?"

"Yes! I'm so sorry. I thought you knew!" On the other end of the comm, Padmé took a deep, ragged, breath.

What could have happened to upset her so much?

"Padmé, are you alright? Are you hurt?" I asked, pushing myself up to a seated position.

Sharp pain lanced down my left leg but I ignored it. My leg hurt quite a bit these days and, right now, Padmé was more important.

"I—no." There was a moment's pause. When she spoke again, her voice was much calmer. "No, no one is hurt. I am so sorry to call you like this but I need help. I need you to take the job on Coruscant instead of the one on Naboo."

I squinted down at the comm link, trying to keep up with her. My poor brain did its best but wasn't quite up to the task. What did the two job offers I'd received have to do with her calling me in the dead of night?

"Okay," I said slowly. "I can probably do that, but is there any particular reason why you need me on Coruscant?"

"I can't do this alone, Sabé! I can't!" A small edge of hysteria reappeared in Padmé's voice. "Oh stars, we're not ready for this. I don't think our timing could have been worse if we tried. Ani's not even here and I don't know the first thing about any of this and I never expected I'd be—" Padmé cut herself off with a small sob.

"Padmé, I need you to breathe, okay?" My grip on the comm link tightened almost painfully, even as I grabbed my cane with my other hand. I was nearly half a galaxy away from her, but I still stood up and began to hunt for my boots.

There was a chance I'd be able to get a ship and fly to Coruscant tonight, if I needed to. But before I started ship-hunting, I needed shoes. "I'm still really confused over here." I tried to sound as calm and comforting as I could. "I'm going to take the job on Coruscant, but I need you to spell out exactly what is going on, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"Yes. I—yes." Padmé was now clearly crying on the other end of the line. Trying to suppress the panic that was now surging through me, I shoved my feet into the first pair of shoes I found—a pair of very pretty and very impractical heels that would probably wreak havoc on my leg.

"Deep breaths, Padmé. Deep breaths," I encouraged her as she continued to cry. I readjusted my grip on my cane and, ignoring the sharp pain still going up and down my left leg, I hobbled out of my bedroom and towards the door. The pain wasn't anything unusual but Padmé crying definitely was. I could do my stretches later and buy new shoes once I reached Coruscant. But first, I had to help Padmé.

"Everything is going to be okay," I said. "I'm going to get a ship and fly to Coruscant now, alright? Just take some deep breaths and tell me what's going on, okay?"

"I—I—" Over the comm, I heard Padmé take a couple of very shaky breaths, getting herself back under control. Finally she said, "Sabé, I'm pregnant."

 **Expected Update Time: February 29th, 2016**


	2. Distractions

**(minor) edit 3/14**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 1: Distractions

The Coruscant Crumbly Café had the best croissants on all of Coruscant. It was an indisputable fact.

And, I thought as I munched on my second croissant of the day, if I had to watch as Coruscant fell to the Separatists, I was going to do it while eating something delicious. Silver linings were hard to come by these days, and I had to take them where I could get them. Admittedly, croissants weren't particularly large silver linings but they were silver linings I could buy, which made them reliable, at least.

My fellow tablemates at the Crumbly Café, however, did not seem to share my point of view about croissants and the probable oncoming Separatist invasion. All of their croissants remained untouched. Captain Typho was too busy anxiously watching Padmé to eat his croissant, and Padmé was too busy anxiously looking back and forth between the window and the viewscreen to eat her croissant. Ellé and Moteé, two of Padmé's handmaidens, were too busy quarrelling about which reporter was the most useless to pay attention to anything, much less the delicious pastries in front of them.

"We should be doing something," Padmé muttered as another starfighter disintegrated in the atmosphere above Quadrant Q-58.

I resisted the urge to sigh. "Like what?"

"There has to be something we can do that's not just—just sitting here!" Padmé turned away from the window to glare at me.

I pushed her plate closer to her. "Eat your croissant," I advised.

She stared at me.

Apparently that answer was not good enough.

"We can't really do anything else, Padmé," I said. "We can't go join the battle, because that would just give all the Republic commanders massive headaches and a lot more to worry about. We can't go volunteer at the medcenter, because you barely know the basics of first aid and because I sincerely doubt the doctors would appreciate me standing in their waiting room and asking if anyone was having any issues with their pregnancy. If they thought that would be helpful, they would have commed me in already. I suppose we could go around trying to rustle up a resistance effort or something, but that seems a little premature to me. Also very defeatist. So, I'm pretty sure the only thing that leaves us to do is to sit here and eat croissants."

"I wouldn't have put it that way, but Reccen is right, milady," Typho said. "As much as we may dislike it, there isn't anything we can do right now."

I grinned at him. "Look at us! Agreeing on something! I think we've grown as people, Captain. I really do."

Typho just scowled at me in response, clearly not as impressed with us as I was. I shrugged at him and took another bite of my croissant.

Padmé huffed and went back to dividing her attention between the window and the viewscreen. Across from us, Moteé and Ellé continued their argument.

"—loser on channel 5 is gorgeous, sure, but he's been saying the exact same thing for the last two hours, Ellé! I don't think he's told us anything new about the situation at all. He hasn't even confirmed that the Chancellor's been kidnapped!" Moteé was saying.

"At least he's been _saying_ something though. That idiot on channel 3 has just been—" Ellé began.

I tuned them out in order to focus on the flaky, buttery goodness on the plate in front of me. I wished I had the recipe for it, so I could make some for myself at home.

An idea hit me.

I glanced at the counter. Two humans huddled behind it, staring intently at the viewscreen and occasionally sending fearful glances out the window. I didn't recognize either of them, which probably decreased my chances of getting them to share the recipe with me. Also, they seemed a bit preoccupied with the battle taking place, which could work for me or against me. Either they'd be so preoccupied and worried that they'd give me the recipe without thinking about it, or they'd be so anxious that they'd get snappy and refuse outright.

It couldn't hurt to ask either way though, could it? The worst that could happen was that they'd say no and that didn't mean I couldn't ask someone else again later. The best that could happen was that I'd get the recipe and be able eat these croissants all the time.

I was going to ask.

"How are you so calm?"

"Huh?" I turned away from the counter to see that Padmé was, once again, glaring at me.

"The Chancellor's been kidnapped, the Legislative District has been evacuated, there is a battle between the Republic and the Separatists occurring right above our heads, and you're obsessing about croissants!" she snapped. "People are _dying_ , Sabé! Maybe even An—our friends! Now is not the time to buy another pastry!"

My eyebrows shot up. Moteé and Ellé stopped bickering and turned to stare at us. Even Typho looked taken aback. Padmé just continued to look like she would be perfectly okay with murdering me because I liked croissants.

Clearly, she was a bit stressed.

"Right…" I drawled. "Okay. Let's take a little walk, Padmé."

I slung my bag over my shoulder as Padmé's scowl deepened.

"I don't want to take a—" Padmé began.

I shot her a look as I grabbed my cane and stood up. She fell quiet and, still scowling, stood up too.

"We'll be back in a bit," I told the rest of the table.

Typho frowned. "It's not safe to go outside."

"Which is why we're just taking a lap around the Café," I said, grabbing Padmé's arm with the hand not holding the cane. "Let's go, sunshine."

Padmé glared, but followed me as we began to make a very slow circuit around the café.

"I don't appreciate you dragging me around like this," Padmé snapped.

"I know. I'm sorry." I wasn't. "But stress is bad." I left the 'for babies' part unsaid, both because we were in a public place and because Padmé could fill in the blanks on her own.

'Stress is bad for babies' had basically become my mantra over the last six months. In the beginning, I would follow it up with all the bad things that could happen to her and the babies—including but not limited to pre-term labor and negatively effecting the babies' immune systems and attention spans—if she was too stressed. However, after a month, she began to look annoyed and recite the list with me so I limited myself to just that one sentence.

"I know," Padmé said tightly. "But for people who are not obsessed with pastries, it's difficult to avoid stress when our friends could be fighting for their lives right above us."

My heart stopped, the phrase 'our friends' finally sinking in and demolishing all of my careful, purposeful thoughts about croissants.

Obi-Wan and Anakin.

She thought Obi-Wan and Anakin were in the battle occurring right above our heads.

"I thought they were in the outer rim," I said sharply, stopping to stare at her. "Last I heard they were in the outer rim. Did you hear more? Why didn't you tell me? You should have—"

"Because I don't know where they are," Padmé said. "The most recent report I heard said they had been killed and—"

"They are notdead. We would know if they were dead. They're just fighting in the outer rim sieges. That's all. They're both perfectly fine."

"Then why haven't you heard from them?" Padmé asked as she began to walk again.

I trailed after her, suddenly feeling very sorry that I had dragged her away from the table.

"I haven't heard from them because they're busy," I glared at her. "It's hard work, fighting a war. That's all. Nothing bad has happened to them. We'd know."

"Would we?" Padmé's voice was very, very quiet.

"Yes! I've left loads of messages for Ob—for them. If they'd died, I'm sure the Jedi would want to repurpose the comm link and, if they did, they'd have to delete all my messages first. Once they did that, I'm sure they'd comm me back and tell me." Except the Jedi didn't believe in attachments. And—I cut myself off. "They aren't cruel. They'd tell me." They would.

I had to believe they would.

"It's been weeks, Sabé." Padmé's irritation slipped away. Instead, she just looked exhausted. "Have we ever gone this long without hearing anything?"

I tried to put myself in her shoes— after all, I couldn't even imagine how awful she must be feeling, knowing that the father of her twins was fighting a war—but still failed utterly at beating back my annoyance. Just because it'd been ages since Obi-Wan had commed me back didn't mean he and Anakin were dead!

"No," I snapped. "But there could be lots of reasons for that. And you still haven't answered why you think they're here."

"The Chancellor's been kidnapped and Coruscant is under attack," Padmé said. "Everything we have heard indicates that this is an incredibly serious situation. Our friends are two of the best. Wouldn't it make sense for them to be called in for this?"

I scowled at the floor as we passed by our table and began our second lap around the café. She had a point. Obi-Wan and Anakin did have a horrifying habit of fighting on the most dangerous and hopeless seeming battlefronts. If they were alive—which they were—it would make a terrible kind of sense for them to be taking part in the battle going on above us.

"Maybe," I reluctantly conceded even as I tried to ignore my roiling stomach and the heavy pressure building in my chest. "But it doesn't matter either way. We still can't do anything and worrying ourselves sick isn't going to help anyone."

"I just wish we knew," said Padmé softly. "This would be so much less awful if we just knew."

We were quiet as we passed by the counter and the two anxious women standing behind it.

Padmé was right.

The absolute worst thing about this war was the fact that, most of the time, we knew practically nothing. Even though Padmé was a member of the Galactic Senate, most of the information she was given was very vague, in order to prevent the Separatists from learning too much about the Republic's plans. And the information available publicly was even worse, as most of it was based on unsubstantiated rumors.

One of the most persistent rumors was that Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker had been killed in action during the outer rim sieges.

Whenever I heard that particular rumor, I had to remind myself that there were lots of rumors about them and that there was no chance in the galaxy that all of them were true.

For example, several news stations were insisting that Anakin and Obi-Wan had lead Republic forces to victory on at least six different planets while others were reporting that the duo had been stuck fighting on Cato Neimoidia or Jabiim or Boz Pity (none of their sources seemed to agree on which it was) for the last two months. One news source on the holonet claimed that Obi-Wan and Anakin were actually deeply enmeshed in peace talks with Count Dooku. Another news source said they had irrefutable proof that the two best friends had recently had an enormous fallout with each other and that the Jedi Council had been forced to place them on two different battle fronts as they could no longer stand to work together.

What they were actually doing, though, was anyone's guess.

And if I thought about that fun little tidbit too much, I felt sick. So I did my best to ignore all the serious rumors and instead focus my attention on the sillier ones. Like that Anakin was furious at Obi-Wan, because his former Master had abandoned the war effort altogether in order to pursue his dream of becoming a singing sensation.

That one popped up on the news quite a bit and I liked hearing about it. It was much better than the ones saying that Obi-Wan had been kidnapped and tortured by the Separatists or that Anakin had been the only survivor of a brutal battle that the Republic had lost horribly. Those were common rumors, too.

My stomach twisted itself tighter and tighter the more I thought about it. My hands started to sweat. It was time to move on.

I turned back to Padmé. "We just have to find other things to focus our attention on, that's all. Things that don't cause stress. Things like croissants. I was thinking of trying to get the recipe from the Crumbly Café. What do you think?"

Padmé's lips twitched towards a smile even as she rolled her eyes. "Sometimes I am exceedingly jealous of you, Sabé. I think you should try to get the recipe, if you really want it. It certainly can't hurt." And then she lost any semblance of amusement and sent a worried look back at the viewscreen.

"You mean _we_ should try to get the recipe," I corrected, nudging her gently. "Stress is bad, you know. And recipes aren't particularly stressful. Well," I reconsidered, "Trying a new recipe can be a bit stressful, but just getting a recipe isn't. Come on. Let's go talk to the people at the counter and see if they can't help us out."

I started to cut back across the café towards the counter. I went slowly, both so that I could safely navigate around the handful of tables filled with people and to give Padmé time to decide to follow me.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, I heard Padmé behind me, murmuring, "Excuse me, pardon, terribly sorry—"

A small, satisfied smile slipped across my face before I managed to suppress it. A distraction would be good for both of us and if Padmé saw me looking smug she might get her back up about it. She'd been touchier than usual lately, for understandable reasons.

Finally, we made it through the tightly crammed together but, thankfully, mostly empty tables. We were almost to the counter.

"Any ideas as to how we should approach this? Any helpful strategies you've picked up in your years of being a politician?" I asked Padmé in an undertone as we slowly walked towards the counter.

Another shadow of a smile flitted across Padmé's face.

"Nothing specific is immediately springing to mind," Padmé whispered back. "But I have found that, generally, compliments can be a good way to start negotiations off on a friendly foot."

"Excellent. Great advice. Let's start with that then."

We reached the counter and I gave the two women behind it my very best smile.

"Hello!" I said cheerfully.

But both women were so engrossed in the viewscreen that they didn't even look at me.

I shared a look with Padmé.

"Not off to a good start, are we?" I muttered.

This earned me an actual smile that stayed on her face for a good several seconds.

"Um, excuse me?" I tried again. "Sorry to interrupt."

Finally, the two workers turned to look at me. One appeared absolutely bewildered and the other seemed irritated.

I could already tell this was going to go really brilliantly.

"It's just, you two are really brilliant bakers," I tried to project all of my sincerity into the compliment in hopes it would help. "Your croissants are like nothing I have ever tasted before."

They stared at me.

"Um, well, thanks," the bewildered one began, "But, uh, we don't bake them."

"Oh." I maybe should have guessed that. "Well, um," I struggled to come up with another compliment. "I also, uh, I really, um, like your necklace? It's, er, very pretty."

Next to me, Padmé stifled a snort.

"Thank you?" the woman said, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Right, well." The compliments were not working. Time to move on. "My friend and I were actually here because of your really delicious croissants. And we were wondering if you could do us a favor and—"

 _Beepbeepbeep._

I stopped and frowned. Was that—?

 _Beepbeepbeep_.

"Sorry," I apologized. "Just a moment."

Next to me, Padmé valiantly took up the croissant recipe crusade as I rummaged around my bag in search of whatever was making the beeps.

"We really are sorry to interrupt," Padmé was saying. "We were just wondering if there was any way we could get the recipe for—"

It was my work comm. I glanced at the display and then swore.

One of my patients had gone into labor.

Babies were great, but sometimes I could swear that they had the worst timing in the galaxy.

"What is it?" Padmé asked, her worried look firmly back in place.

"I've got to go in to work." I tried to smile.

"Now?" one of the women behind the counter demanded. "You mean our boss isn't the only crazy one?"

I shrugged. "I'm a midwife. And babies don't really care if there's a battle going on." I turned back to Padmé. "So, I'm entrusting the mission to you, Padmé," I said with mock seriousness, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. "Enlist Moteé and Ellé if you have to, but I'm counting on you, alright?"

I began to head towards the door—babies really did wait for no one, and this particular woman, Angelou, had been very anxious about the thought of giving birth to her first child. If it took me too long to show up, she'd probably become really worried.

"I'll comm you when we're done, okay?" I quickly said over my shoulder.

Padmé nodded, looking like she was trying not to appear too miserable.

Unfortunately, I really didn't have much time to help her with that anymore.

"Just remember," I said, "Stress is bad and croissants are good!"

With that little nugget of wisdom, I left the café and began my search for an airtaxi that was crazy enough to be braving the skylanes.

Seven hours later, I left behind a sleeping Angelou and her adorable, healthy baby boy. Feeling exhausted and exhilarated—there was nothing quite like helping a brand new person make their first appearance in the galaxy—I waved down another airtaxi, directing the pilot to take me home.

After a few minutes of staring happily out the window, I remembered that prior to heading to work, there had been a battle taking place. The world seemed to freeze and, for a moment, it was nearly impossible to breathe. Then, everything sped back up again.

"Excuse me." I hurriedly leaned forward to talk to the airtaxi pilot, my stomach churning furiously. "Sorry to bother you; it's just that I've been at work for the last couple of hours and what happened with the battle? Did the Separatists win? Are we going to have to start forming a resistance?"

The pilot gave me an incredulous look through the mirror. "You don't know?" she demanded.

"Look," I scowled back at her, "I was helping someone give birth, okay? I was a bit preoccupied with other things!"

"Oh, well, that's fair enough then. And the battle was a rousing success, is what it was," the pilot informed me with an enormous grin.

I let out a gust of air, sagging back against the seat. I sent a quick prayer of thanks to any gods who might be listening.

The pilot continued, still grinning. "The Separatist force was routed, Count Dooku was killed, and we got the Chancellor back, safe and sound! The—" she swore cheerfully, "Seps didn't even know what hit 'em! That's what they get for underestimating Skywalker and Kenobi!"

Once again, the world froze. Skywalker and Kenobi?

"Ha! As if a bunch of droids stood a chance against two of the best blasted Jedi in the whole—"

"Wait, hold on!" I leaned forward, my heart pounding furiously in my chest. "Do you mean Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker? Are they here? Were they hurt? Have you heard anything about—?"

"Yeah, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker! You know another Kenobi and Skywalker?" The stupid pilot laughed at me. "The Jedi Council recalled them from the Outer Rim just to beat back the Seps and rescue—"

"Are they hurt though?" I demanded. "Were either of them hurt?"

The pilot stopped laughing to give me a funny look. "You aren't one of those crazies who obsess about the two of them, are you? Because they're Jedi, you know, and—"

"Oh for the—!"

She was useless! The pilot was absolutely useless! What good was knowing what they did, if she couldn't tell me if they were okay or not? And why wouldn't she just give me a—

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait!" I yanked my bag onto my lap and began to furiously dig through it.

After a few frantic moments, I found my personal comm link.

"Ha!" I crowed, beaming at it.

There was a small light flashing at the top of it.

I had messages.

 _I had messages!_

With shaking hands, I connected my ear piece to the link and entered in my code. My heart seriously felt like it was about to beat out of my chest as I waited for the first message to play.

"Sabé, it's Padmé."

My heart sank and I sagged against the seat, putting my hand over my eyes and trying to focus on breathing.

"I just wanted to let you know you don't need to comm me tonight," Padmé's voice continued.

Just because it wasn't Obi-Wan didn't mean he was hurt. He could have been busy or—

"I'm going to be, um," Padmé giggled. "Otherwise occupied."

My back went ramrod straight again. Padmé did not giggle. Not unless—

"They're home! I'll speak with you later. Good-bye, Sabé!"

Padmé's message ended.

They were home! Padmé said they were home!

A giggle escaped me. I clamped my hand over my mouth to try to smoother my laughter, knowing that the pilot was probably thinking I was some kind of mad woman. But I couldn't stop laughing and, actually, on second thought, I didn't really care if she thought I was crazy.

Because they were home! Obi-Wan and Anakin were—

The next message started.

"Hello, Sabé." Obi-Wan's voice was the best thing I'd heard in years. "I am sorry to have been out of touch for so long. I'm afraid the Council have been keeping Anakin and me very busy. However, as I'm sure you've heard, we have finally been recalled to Coruscant. Anakin and I do have a number of meetings to attend and reports to finish. However, I will have some free time tonight and I was wondering if you would be able to meet up for tea, somewhere. If not, of course I understand and we'll have to find another time." There was a small pause. "I hope you're well." There was another pause. Then he said, "Well, goodbye."

Obi-Wan was alive.

He was very definitely, absolutely, completely alive. And he was doing well. He wasn't hurt or injured or lost in the middle of nowhere, on the verge of dying. And neither was Anakin. Those awful rumors had been totally wrong. Both of them were alive and well and they were finally, finally _home._

An unfamiliar voice interrupted my thoughts. I jumped and looked around wildly.

I was still sitting in the airtaxi, which had come to a stop in front of my apartment.

The pilot had turned around in her seat and was cautiously studying me.

"I—sorry, what?" I had no idea what she'd just said.

"Are you alright, is what I asked." The pilot continued to stare at me.

"I—yeah, I'm fine. I'm—well, better than fine actually!"

She frowned at me. "Are you sure? Because you're kind of crying, aren't you?"

"I—" She was right. "Oh." My cheeks were wet and the world was a little blurry. "I am." I wiped at my eyes and sniffed a bit. "I just got some really great news. Um, here's your fare."

I hurriedly paid her and then exited the taxi before she could say anything more, quickly swiping at my eyes again.

As I waited for the elevator, I entered in Obi-Wan's comm number.

It had only just begun to beep when he picked up.

"Hello?"

At the sound of his voice, a huge grin spread across my face.

"Obi-Wan, it's Sabé!" My smile felt like it might crack my face in half, it was so big, but I didn't even care. "I definitely have time to get caf tonight if you still do!"

 **Expected Update Time: Before March 24th**


	3. Lies

**A/N: Hey guys! Hope you're doing well! First, thanks to everyone who pointed out that weird 'you-forgot-a-few-words-and-letters-there-didn't you?' typo last chapter! It's fixed now! Second, I wanted to say that while I've looked on wookieepedia and watched the movie and everything, I'm still not totally sure if there's a strict timeline for how long it took for everything in Revenge of the Sith to happen. If there is, I'm going to very politely and a little regretfully ask you to ignore it. We're sticking with my timeline, which basically means that all Revenge of the Sith happens very quickly. So, just a head's up. :) Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter!  
**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 2: Lies

"So then," Obi-Wan said, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "Cody decided he'd had enough and changed all the codes!"

"Did he really?" I demanded gleefully. "Can he even do that?"

"I don't know if he's allowed to, but he certainly did anyway!"

Obi-Wan and I burst into another round of laughter.

"Oh stars, my stomach's starting to hurt!" I gasped in between peals of giggles.

After I had commed Obi-Wan on the way up to my apartment, it had taken us all of fifteen minutes to meet up at the small tea shop located halfway between the Jedi Temple and my apartment.

I'd discovered it shortly after I'd moved back to Coruscant and I had been dying to share it with Obi-Wan ever since. It had absolutely amazing tea and caf, and had a comfortably worn-in feel to it that I just knew Obi-Wan would love. All of his favorite spots were small and a little worn-out, making this place almost a sure success with him. It was also open 24 hours a day, which had turned out to be a necessity.

I wasn't quite sure how long Obi-Wan and I had been in the shop, but I was familiar enough with the lights of Coruscant that I knew it was long after most diurnal beings were asleep.

As our laughter died down, I beamed at Obi-Wan. He grinned back.

He was home and safe and even had stories that we could laugh about instead of cry over. It was more than I'd hoped for. So I probably could have happily sat there and smiled at him like an idiot for another couple of hours. But, sadly, he'd probably find that a little bit awkward. So I brought up something else for us to talk about.

"So, how's Anakin doing?" I asked. "I know you said he hasn't been hurt or anything, but is he holding up okay?"

Obi-Wan's smile faded into something more thoughtful.

"Yes," he said slowly. "I believe so, although he does gets more temperamental the longer we're away from Coruscant. But then again, he claims I get more caustic the longer we're away, so perhaps that's only to be expected."

"Well, good thing you're both home then. You'll have some time to get back to your better selves." But even as I spoke, an awful thought hit me. "You _will_ have some time here, won't you? They're not going to send you two out right away again, are they?"

Obi-Wan sighed and shrugged, which wasn't quite the answer I was hoping for. "I don't know. I think everyone is hoping Anakin and I will have some time on Coruscant. But the war has the Jedi spread very thin. If we're needed somewhere else, of course we'll go. Although, with Dooku gone, perhaps things will finally start to quiet down."

My hopes weren't particularly high—Obi-Wan and Anakin seemed to have some of the worst luck in the galaxy. But I pushed the idea of them leaving again from my mind. Dwelling on them leaving while they were still here would just be a good way to ruin whatever time we did have. Instead I forced a smile back on my face, and marshalled my thoughts into a slightly happier direction.

"I still can't believe you got knocked out and entirely missed what happened with Count Dooku," I teased him. "Having to get rescued by your padawan again, Obi-Wan? He's never going to let you live this down."

Obi-Wan groaned dramatically. "I know. He's already starting to rub it in. It hasn't even been a full day and he's already left me a gloating comm message!"

That startled a laugh out of me. "Really? He couldn't just tell you in person? He had to leave you a message? Why?"

Obi-Wan laughed too. "To be fair to him, I was meeting with the rest of the Council at the time, so he couldn't tell me in person."

"But what in the stars did he have to tell you so urgently that he left you a message?" I asked, grinning.

Obi-Wan shook his head fondly. "That he was exhausted and going to sleep. He told me that I shouldn't so much as knock on his door before late tomorrow afternoon. He's just lucky we don't have any meetings until after lunch."

"Yeah," I laughed a little nervously.

That had maybe not been the best question to ask. I had known that Padmé and Anakin were spending the night together. I probably should have guessed that Anakin had commed Obi-Wan to give him some sort of alibi. Both Anakin and Padmé were adamant that Obi-Wan couldn't know about their relationship. They had been regularly lying to the poor man in order to keep him in the dark.

Time to change the subject so that I didn't have to attempt to lie to him on their behalf or have to listen to him tell me their lies and end up lying by omission.

"So," I wracked my brains desperately for something else to talk about. "Naboo's election season just finished?"

I winced. Well, that was just great. Naboo politics was definitely the next logical place to take this conversation. That wasn't a weird or suspicious subject change at all.

I smiled in an attempt to cover up my embarrassment.

To his credit, Obi-Wan only looked slightly taken aback as he asked, "Oh? Do you have a new queen then?"

"Yeah. Queen Apailana. She was sworn in a few days ago," I said as brightly as I could. "She's actually one of Rabé's little cousins, which is kind of strange to think about."

"Do you think she will do a good job?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Well, I voted for her, so I hope she will," I shrugged, trying not to drown in self-pity. Why was _this_ the conversation I had chosen to start? Naboo politics? Really? "And Rabé says she's got her head and her heart in the right place, so that's encouraging."

"Is Rabé doing well?" Obi-Wan asked.

Silently, I thanked him for steering the conversation in a slightly better direction.

We spent the next few minutes chatting about what my friends were up to back on Naboo.

"You have to remind me to show you holos of Reneé," I was telling Obi-Wan. "She's ten standard months old and just the _cutest_. If Reneé is anything to go by, Ras and Eirtaé make the best babies, no competition."

Obi-Wan laughed. "I'll do my best to—" A loud jangle of bells interrupted him. Startled, we turned towards the door.

A tall Twi'lek woman with a manic smile and an enormous backpack ushered a crowd of sleepy-looking children into the tea shop.

Behind the counter, the bored looking Rodian glanced up from his doodles. At the sight of the new arrivals, his face dropped.

"Alright, scouts!" The woman trilled as she clapped her hands together enthusiastically. "Welcome back to the Toasty Tea Shop! Take a look around! What do you see?"

I turned to give Obi-Wan a bewildered look, only to see him staring at the new arrivals with a resigned expression on his face.

"What's going on?" I whispered to him.

"Anyone?" The woman's voice rose in pitch. "Come on now, scouts!"

Obi-Wan sighed and said quietly, "We should probably leave."

"Why? Who are these people?" I asked, glancing back at the group of kids clustered in the center of the tea shop. About half of them were yawning.

"Scout Leader Til'ee?" a tiny Cathar raised her hand in the air.

"Yes, Scout Jubilee! Good initiative!" the woman beamed. "What do you see?"

"We're tired. Can we go to bed?" the little girl asked plaintively.

Several other children immediately seconded her request.

"A Galactic Scouts Troop. Come on, Sabé," Obi-Wan murmured, standing up and leaving a few creds on the well-worn tabletop.

Frowning—what in the stars was a Galactic Scouts Troop?—I left a tip of my own, grabbed my cane, and began to stand up.

I asked, "What's so bad about—"

Sharp, searing pain lanced up my leg. As if in slow motion, I felt the stupid thing begin to buckle underneath me as my cane slid out to the side.

Next thing I knew, I was on the ground. My butt ached, but the sharp pain going up and down my leg drove everything else from my mind.

I blasted off a stream of curses as I quickly began to put deep pressure on my calf, massaging and stretching it.

I was vaguely aware of Obi-Wan crouching next to me and asking me questions, but I ignored him in favor of dealing with my stupid, thrice-cursed leg.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the pain receded to a manageable level.

I swore once more, loudly, to make myself feel better.

"Are you alright, Sabé?" Obi-Wan asked, sounding concerned.

I scowled down at my leg and then shot a glare at my useless cane.

"I'm fine," I grumbled, slowly bending my knee to see if that would cause the dumb thing to flare up again. Thankfully, it didn't.

"Wow, lady!" a small voice squealed. "That was wicked! I haven't ever heard o' _half_ those words 'afore!"

I froze, inwardly cursing up a storm. There were kids in the shop. I'd just sworn in front of a bunch of kids.

"Yes, congratulations, Bell! You have just improved your vocabulary! The things you learn as a Galactic Scout!" Another voice proclaimed, sounding oddly excited about a bunch of kids being exposed to a lot of nasty curse words. "You've also just witnessed a prime example of what happens when a diurnal being consumes too much alcohol! This is sure to be a frequent sight for all nocturnal beings! So, record this in your datapads, Scouts!"

What?

I looked away from my leg to see the Twi'lek woman beaming down at me, while the children all lined up and began to grab small datapads out of her huge bag.

In front of me, Obi-Wan grimaced. "It's not worth the effort to try and correct them," he said quietly. "Do you think you can stand up on your own?"

My cheeks burned. A bunch of children thought I was a foul mouth drunk and Obi-Wan thought I was incapable.

What a way to end the night.

"Yes," I snapped as I leaned over and snatched up my cane from where it fell. "Of course I can."

It took a few minutes and a few more curse words before I was back on my feet. Obi-Wan watched me closely but, much to my relief, did not offer to help.

I grabbed my purse and together we made our way past the now wide awake Scout troop and out into the night air.

Guilt crept up on me. I shouldn't have snapped at him.

"My leg does give out on me sometimes," I said a little abruptly as we headed down the skywalk together, my gaze fixed on the path in front of us. "Usually it happens if I've been using my leg too much or if it's been in the same position for too long. I must have forgotten to stretch it while we were talking. I'm usually better about that. I really don't fall very often." There was a small pause. I fidgeted before firmly repeating, "I _don't_."

Because I didn't. Most of the time, I was perfectly fine. A little slower, maybe, but still fine.

"Of course," said Obi-Wan.

Silence fell. We continued to walk down the skywalk.

I really didn't want the night to end like this. It had been so much fun until the Scouts had come into the shop, and I really wanted to end on a high note, especially because I wasn't sure when Obi-Wan and I would be able to see each other again.

"Well," I struggled to find something to say. "The next time you and Anakin have some free time, you'll have to let me know. I'd love to see you both again. Maybe even Padmé will be free, and all four of us can meet up."

I glanced at Obi-Wan out of the corner of my eye.

He was smiling at me. "Of course. I know Anakin would appreciate seeing you, too. He'll probably be upset I didn't wake him up to come tonight."

I sincerely doubted that. He was probably too happy about seeing Padmé again to even think about me.

But, of course, I couldn't tell Obi-Wan that.

Instead I said, "I thought he gave you strict orders not to wake him up?"

I wondered if repeating back what he said to me earlier counted as lying to him. I hoped not. I really didn't want to lie Obi-Wan.

Seemingly oblivious to my concerns, Obi-Wan chuckled. "He did. But I don't think that will stop him from being put out with me."

I rolled my eyes and gave an overdramatic sigh. "What are we going to do with that boy?"

Obi-Wan grinned, "I've been—"

 _Beep._

We stared at each other for a moment. Maybe I'd imagined the beep, I thought a little wildly. Maybe no one was actually—

 _Beep._

I groaned, "Do you think that's your comm or mine?"

 _Beep._

Obi-Wan sighed, looking annoyed. "I have no idea but we both better check."

"I guess," I grumbled, grudgingly starting to dig through my purse.

I didn't really want to talk to anyone who wasn't Obi-Wan at the moment. We would be saying good-bye soon enough. There was no need to make it happen even faster.

I pulled my personal comm out of my purse. It beeped at me again.

"It's mine," I told Obi-Wan before reluctantly answering it. "Reccen."

"Sabé, it's Padmé," the familiar voice rang out into the night.

My eyes widened in alarm. Padmé was supposed to be with Anakin, and Obi-Wan wasn't supposed to know that—

"I'm so sorry to wake you up," Padmé was saying, "but An—"

"Say hi to Obi-Wan!" I hurriedly interrupted her before she could finish that sentence.

The comm went quiet as Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up.

Oh, this was not good.

Maybe if I kept talking, I'd somehow manage to explain away that really weird interruption in a non-suspicious way?

"You didn't wake me up, because Obi-Wan and I decided to go out for caf and tea!" I chattered, plastering a smile on my face in hopes that would somehow convince Obi-Wan that I was just really excited to tell Padmé about our night at the tea shop and was not trying to help her cover up her illegal marriage to his former padawan. "Anakin wasn't able to make it because he's really exhausted after rescuing the Chancellor and crash-landing a ship, so it was just me and Obi-Wan having some caf! And tea! And I would've invited you too, but I knew that you were busy and stressed with, um," 'Being almost eight months pregnant' was the most truthful answer, but I couldn't say that so I improvised, "All your Senate stuff!" I hid a wince as I barreled onwards, "But now we've got you on the comm, which is fantastic! So say hi to Obi-Wan, Padmé!"

There was a moment of excruciating silence, where no one said anything.

Obi-Wan was staring at me like I'd lost my mind, Padmé and Anakin were doing who knew what on the other end of the line, and I was desperately praying to whatever gods were listening to send a bolt of lightning to strike me down and put me out of my misery.

Finally, Padmé said, "Hi, Obi-Wan."

Which was not exactly the brilliant response I'd been hoping for.

"Hi, Padmé," Obi-Wan said slowly, shooting me a confused look.

I kept smiling and praying for that lightning bolt to make its appearance.

"How are you?" Padmé asked.

"I'm doing well. How are you?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Oh, I'm fine," Padmé said.

And, with that, the conversation screeched to a halt.

Obi-Wan sent another baffled look my way.

No lightning bolt appeared to save me. Apparently none of the gods were available to help, at the moment.

I really hated having to keep secrets from Obi-Wan.

Resisting the urge to swear, I instead said, "So, uh, how can I help you, Padmé?"

There was another pause. Then she said, "I was just calling to give you an update about the croissants."

I stared blankly at the comm. The croissants? What was she—? Oh.

"The recipe. Right," I nodded. "Um, so did you get it?"

"I did," she said.

"Well, that's good then. Thank you," I said, wondering if this was really the story we were going with.

"I can drop it off for you tomorrow, if you like?" Padmé offered.

It was, apparently.

Lying to a friend was the worst thing ever.

"Sure," I said slowly. "I mean, I work tomorrow, but—"

"Oh, I'll just swing by your office then," Padmé interrupted. "When do you think you'll be free?"

My brow furrowed. Was she seriously going to drop off the recipe at my workplace? Or was she just trying to move the conversation along?

"Well, my lunch hour, I guess, but—"

"Wonderful," Padmé said briskly. "I'll see you then, Sabé. And it was nice talking to you, Obi-Wan."

"You as well," Obi-Wan said, frowning down at the comm.

"Well, good night!" Padmé disconnected and the comm went dead.

We stood on the skywalk in silence for a moment.

"Huh," I finally said, trying very hard not to laugh nervously. "Well, um, that was nice of her."

Obi-Wan stopped frowning at the comm link in order to frown at me. "Did she comm you in the middle of the night to give you an update about a recipe?" he asked very slowly.

My cheeks burned. "It would appear that she did, yes. Um. It was a croissant recipe, though, and she knows I really like croissants? So maybe that was why?" I offered a little half-heartedly as I determinedly took off down the skywalk again.

The sooner we reached the intersection at the end of the walk, the sooner we could go our separate ways, and the sooner I could stop lying to him.

I walked as briskly as I thought my leg could handle. Obi-Wan kept up easily. When I chanced a look over at him, he was still frowning.

"Sabé," Obi-Wan began, "What was that about?"

"What do you mean?" I asked in an effort to buy some more time. The intersection was fast approaching. If I could stall long enough, maybe we'd be able to go our separate ways before I actually had to try to answer that question.

"Sabé?"

I turned to Obi-Wan to see that his frown had softened into something more confused and, possibly, a little sad.

Which just wasn't fair.

I really didn't like hiding things from Obi-Wan. I had no idea how Anakin lied to him about Padmé all the time without drowning in guilt.

Just then, we reached the intersection where we would be going our separate ways; him towards the Jedi Temple, and me towards my apartment.

For a moment, I considered ignoring his question and giving him a quick and cheery good-bye before speeding off. But then I made the mistake of looking at him again.

His frown had disappeared entirely. Instead, he was just staring at me with this sad, disappointed look on his face.

I cursed under my breath.

"Look, it's not—" I cursed again. I really hated this. I took a step closer to him. "I don't know, exactly, what Padmé was comming about," I said. And that was true. I really, honestly didn't. "I do know that Padmé has told me some secrets that she hasn't really told too many other people." Also true. "It was probably something to do with one of those secrets." She had been about to mention Anakin, so that was definitely true.

Obi-Wan searched my face for something. "Is that why you interrupted her? So she wouldn't accidentally share something with me she didn't want to?"

I nodded, feeling some of my tension disappear. He understood. Thank the stars. "Right. I didn't want to accidentally betray her trust by not letting her know who else was listening."

But instead of backing off like I had expected him to, Obi-Wan took a step closer to me, a strange look on his face. "Then why do you feel so awful about it?"

I stumbled backward, almost losing my balance as shock coursed through me. "What? Why do you say—how do you know—I mean, what?"

Where had that come from? How did Obi-Wan know that? I mean, I knew I hadn't done a super great job of handling the conversation and that it was probably pretty obvious that I had panicked about it a bit, but I didn't think it was that obvious that I had hated every second of it! I wasn't _that_ bad at lying, was I? Or had he done some Jedi mind thing, or—?

Obi-Wan's face went blank as he took a step away from me. "Never mind. I apologize. It's not my place to—"

"Wow, okay." My head was reeling. What was going on here? "That's fine. I mean, nothing to apologize for—it's—it's fine. But where did that come from? Did I really seem that upset about it?"

"It's not my place to pry." Obi-Wan gave me a polite and distant smile, looking more like a Jedi Master than one of my best friends. "I apologize. I hope you have a nice night, Sabé."

Obi-Wan nodded at me and then spun around on his heel, walking towards the Jedi Temple.

I gaped at his back as he continued to walk away.

What was that?

And he was just leaving? Just like that?

He couldn't do that!

"Obi-Wan!" I shouted after him, starting to follow him towards the Jedi Temple. He turned back around, still looking polite and distant as speeders rushed by us.

I stopped following him. Maybe it wasn't my place to make him say anything, if he didn't want to. But I also didn't want this to be how the night ended.

For a long moment, I just stared at him.

Finally, I said, "I hope you have a good night too. It was nice seeing you. I'm—I'm really glad you're doing okay."

Obi-Wan gave me a small smile and a sharp nod before turning back around and walking away.

I stood on the skywalk, watching him until he disappeared around a corner. Then I stood there a little longer.

Finally, my leg started to cramp up. Cursing under my breath, I quickly stretched it out again and slowly headed back home, wondering what in the stars was going on with my friends.

 **Expected Update Time: April 13th (But I've kinda been rocking the 'earlier' thing lately, it seems-so here's to hoping I can keep it up! :D)**


	4. Communication

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 3: Communication

The terribly awkward comm call from Padmé, and Obi-Wan's bafflingly abrupt departure bothered me the rest of the night and into the next morning. I tried to ignore it in favor of focusing on my patients, but didn't quite succeed in banishing it from my thoughts entirely.

So, it was with some relief that I saw Padmé sitting in the employee breakroom when I went on my lunch.

"So you were being serious about dropping off the recipe," I said as I approached her.

She gave me a tight smile and stood up, her enormous skirt briefly catching on her stomach before smoothing out again. "Not entirely. Can we go someplace private? I don't have much time before everyone will start to wonder where I am."

I blinked at her. Padmé didn't typically try and give her security detail the slip.

"Uh, sure," I said slowly. "We can hole up in that supply closet on the second floor again or we can try and commandeer an exam room. It's up to—"

"Exam room," Padmé interrupted, striding past me and out of the break room.

For a moment, I just stared after her. "Well, okay then."

A few minutes later, we entered one of the empty exam rooms. Practically the entire clinic was eating lunch, so it wasn't too hard to find one and I didn't feel too guilty for it either.

"So, what's going on here?" I asked, once the door slid shut and the privacy shield was activated.

Padmé, who had been pacing since we entered the room, whirled to a stop in front of me. "I need you to check on the twins."

I snapped into action, hurriedly booting up the med-droid.

"Did something happen last night?" I demanded as I entered the procedure codes into the wall panel and the droid started its boot-up sequence. "Did you feel pain or—Padmé, if something worries you, you have to forget the whole secrecy thing and talk to someone about it. To be perfectly honest, I'm pretty sure most people suspect you're pregnant anyway—it's kinda hard to hide twins. So, you should have just let me know it was important and—"

"It's probably nothing, actually." Padmé started pacing again. "I'm only doing this to put Anakin at ease. I really don't think it's anything. If I did, I would have told you last night."

My heart rate slowed. "Oh." I entered in the last procedure code and then put the process on pause. "Sorry. I didn't mean to jump to conclusions. So is Anakin just freaking out about being a father, then? Is that what this is about?"

Padmé huffed out a small laugh. "He took the news a lot better than I thought he would, actually. He was very sweet about it. I honestly think he's excited to be a father. But he's afraid something will go wrong with the pregnancy. I tried to tell him that you were keeping a close eye on everything and that women rarely die in childbirth on Coruscant but it didn't seem to help."

"So you offered to have another exam, to try and put his mind at ease?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Well, you really should be having them more regularly anyway," I said as Padmé frowned at me. I ignored her and said, "If you want to lie down, we'll get started."

"Do you think you can do an abbreviated version?" Padmé asked as she sat on the exam chair. "I really don't have much time."

I rolled my eyes again and got started without another word.

"Okay," I said, once the exam finished. "Well, it looks like everything's progressing the way it should. You and the twins seem to be in tip-top condition. So you can let Anakin know that it's going well. You may want to mention that twins typically come a little early but it's usually nothing to worry about. You have any other questions or anything?"

"No." Padmé gave me a warm smile as she stood back up. "Thank you, Sabé. I truly do appreciate you taking the time to do this."

I smiled back. "Of course. That's what I'm here for. Although," I joked as I lowered the privacy shield and the door slid open, "I'll admit that I'm a little disappointed that I didn't actually get that recipe from you."

Padmé laughed as we walked down the hall together. "Well, I'd hate for you to be disappointed." She reached into one of her deep pockets and, with a flourish, produced a sheet of flimsy.

"Is that the recipe?" I asked in disbelief, glancing between Padmé and the sheet.

"The crusade for the croissant recipe was a success," Padmé announced smugly as I grabbed the flimsy.

It had all of the instructions written on it in Padmé's neat penmanship. "You are the absolute best."

Padmé grinned. "Why, thank you. I do have to go, though. I have a meeting with the delegation of—well," she interrupted herself, "I have work to do, at any rate. But thank you again, Sabé. We'll have to talk later."

"See you, Padmé!" I waved as she left the clinic.

The second half of my day went much better than the first half, although I spent every free minute I had trying to scarf down some food to make up for missing lunch. However, with one of last night's mysteries solved in a positively ordinary way, concentrating on my patients was a lot easier, despite my hunger.

The rest of my work day passed quickly and I arrived home in a much better mood than I'd been in when I'd left for work that morning.

I shrugged my cloak off, and hung it and my bag up on the cloak rack before walking over to the sofa. Then, like I did every day after work, I began the stretches and exercises that helped keep my bad leg as good as it was.

I was about halfway through them when my comm link started to beep.

I briefly considered just letting it go and comming whoever it was back later, sometime after I finished my exercises. But basically all of my friends were really busy people with fairly unpredictable schedules. So, instead, I rolled my eyes, grumbled under my breath, and then hauled myself off the sofa to limp over to the cloak rack, so I could dig through my bag.

"Reccen," I answered, once I'd found my comm.

"Sabé, this is Obi-Wan."

My eyebrows shot up. "Oh! Uh, hi Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan didn't really comm me very often and he definitely didn't comm me only a day after we saw each other. Usually he only commed me back in response to my messages and to let me know he was alive or on planet. Why in the stars would be comming me now?

Unless… unless he was going to explain whatever weirdness had happened the night before?

"Do you have a moment to talk?" Obi-Wan sounded as though he were at his most distant. I could almost see him staring at the comm with a look of polite yet removed interest.

My stomach curled in on itself. Apparently, I'd been wrong about him calling to explain the weirdness. It seemed that whatever was going on with me and Obi-Wan hadn't straightened itself out on its own yet. He still sounded more like a Jedi Master than my friend.

"Um, sure," I answered, trying not to sound too disappointed. "Of course."

I slowly hobbled my way back towards the sofa. I didn't like to use my cane in the apartment, so it was still leaning against the caf table. I used the furniture and walls for support instead.

"While I understand why you might not want to accept what Anakin is saying as the truth, you know better than anyone why it most likely is," Obi-Wan said, sounding very calm and very reasonable as I sat back down on the sofa. "Even if his dreams do not turn out to be accurate this time, it would still be wise to take precautionary measures."

Dreams? What dreams? And what precautionary measures?

"Obi-Wan," I frowned, "I don't—"

"I know you don't think it's anything to be concerned about," Obi-Wan interrupted smoothly, misinterpreting what I was going to say for possibly the first time ever. "However, Anakin is quite convinced that these dreams are prophetic. Given what happened with his mother—" Shock jolted through me even as Obi-Wan continued, "—I trust his instincts completely. Sabé, you may not want to hear it, but I truly believe he's correct and that he is foreseeing the future in these dreams."

I stared at the comm blankly, my mind whirling with confusion. Anakin was having prophetic dreams again? Since when? And about what? And why wouldn't I want to hear it? I definitely wanted to hear it! Any chance we had to stop something horrible from happening was a chance we had to take! Obviously! And Anakin's dreams were proven to be accurate—we had all learned that the hard way with Anakin's mother. So why did Obi-Wan think I wouldn't believe him? And—

Obi-Wan, though, was apparently not done confusing me yet.

Before I could decide what question to ask first, he continued. "I know your preferred method of handling prophetic dreams tends to be a bit more 'wait and see' but surely you can understand why it might be wise to try to be more proactive, in this instance? We're not asking you to hire private bodyguards—" _Bodyguards?_ They wanted me to hire _bodyguards?_ "Or anything like that, but if you would consent to perhaps moving back to Naboo and spending more of your free time with Eirtaé or Rabé, I truly believe we might be able to prevent your death."

And, with that, my brain just stopped.

"My death? " I spluttered. "What in the—I don't even—My death? Death, Obi-Wan? Me? Death? I don't—this doesn't even—what are you—why—I—I— _What?_ "

That was about as much coherency as I could manage at the moment. I stared at the comm link, my mind whirling frantically as I tried to make some sort of sense of what Obi-Wan was saying.

There was a moment of silence.

Then Obi-Wan said, "Anakin said that he had spoken to you about his dreams."

"No, he did not!" I exclaimed. "I think I would remember if he had told me I was in danger of dying again!"

"I don't—" He paused. "He said he had spoken to you about them and that you weren't taking them seriously," Obi-Wan repeated himself, as if saying it again would somehow make it true.

"He didn't and I would have, if he had! I take prophetic dreams very seriously!" But this was getting away from the point, which was that I was, once again, apparently in danger of dying. "So what was his dream? What do I have to avoid? How am I in danger?"

Obi-Wan was quiet on the other end of the line.

"Obi-Wan!" I snapped. "If I might die, I think I deserve to know!"

"He was very upset that you weren't taking it seriously," Obi-Wan said very slowly, completing ignoring my questions. "That was why he spoke to me in the first place. I don't understand—unless—" Obi-Wan trailed off again.

When the infuriating man stayed quiet, I said, "Well, at least that makes two of us. Because I think I understand even less than you do!"

"Yes, yes," Obi-Wan murmured, clearly not paying me any attention whatsoever.

I scowled at the comm link, wishing I could scowl at Obi-Wan instead.

"Obi-Wan!" I tried again. "What is going on?"

There was another moment of silence. Then Obi-Wan heaved a huge sigh.

"I'm terribly sorry about all this, Sabé." Obi-Wan sounded more like himself than he had the entire conversation. He also, unless I missed the mark entirely, sounded very sheepish. "I'm afraid I may have misunderstood something and Anakin may have allowed me to jump to some erroneous conclusions."

I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to convince myself that yelling at him would be counterproductive.

"Okay, Obi-Wan," I said, once I got a hold of what little remained of my patience, "That's not actually as helpful as I think you may think it is. Would you care to tell me what, exactly, is going on here?"

There was another pause.

While Obi-Wan said nothing, I took a few deep breaths and tried to remind myself that losing my temper never helped anything. But it didn't calm me down as I much as I had hoped it would. What was going on here?

Finally, Obi-Wan slowly said, "I'm not sure it's my place to say."

My mouth fell open. If it wasn't his place to say, why had he commed me in the first place?

"Excuse me? I'm pretty sure this comm call has made it 'your place to say'! You can't just say 'Oh, Sabé you're going to die—wait, never mind I was wrong!' Like—that's not fair! Also really worrying! Tell me what is going on, Obi-Wan! At least tell me something if you can't tell me all of it!" I demanded, my heart pounding in my ears.

But Obi-Wan just repeated, "It's not my place to say. I am truly, very sorry about this, Sabé. I shouldn't have commed you. I apologize. Have a nice day."

"But—!"

There was a small clicking noise.

He disconnected me. Obi-Wan had just disconnected me!

I gaped at the comm link.

Seriously? _Seriously?_

My face burned.

What in the stars was that? How could he do that? How could he—

My comm link beeped.

I immediately answered. "Why did you disconnect me? Why would you—"

"This is Anakin," a familiar voice snapped.

Anakin! If Anakin was having dreams, then Anakin could explain!

"Anakin, thank the stars! I just had the weirdest—"

"How could you, Sabé?" Anakin demanded. "How could you say that everything is going to be alright?"

I stared at my comm link. I wanted to take a moment to figure out what in the stars was going on, but that had worked out miserably the last comm conversation.

"You know—" Anakin began.

I interrupted him, before things could get totally out of control again, "What are you talking about, Anakin? I am really confused."

"Padmé and the twins!" Anakin burst. "What else would I be talking about? How could you say that they were going to be alright, Sabé?"

"Um." That had not helped to clear things up at all. "Are you talking about Padmé's exam? Because everything's progressing normally and—"

"But you know what happened last time!" Anakin raged on the other end of the link. "You were the one who encouraged me to do something about it!"

I was not going to have another disastrous comm conversation today. I was not. One was quite enough, thank you very much.

"Okay, you know what?" I said, "You seem to feel very strongly about whatever is going on—"

"Of course I feel strongly about it!" Anakin shouted across the link.

I raised my voice and kept talking, "So we're going to meet in person to discuss this. It'll go better. When are you free to meet?"

"I'm not free to—" Instead of finishing his sentence, Anakin began to curse creatively and vehemently at me in a number of different languages.

I waited for him to finish with as much patience as I could.

But a minute into his tirade, he showed no signs of slowing down. And my patience had already been sorely tried today.

"Okay, right, that's nice," I drawled as loudly as I could. "So, I'll see you later tonight at Padmé's. We'll talk then. Bye, Anakin."

Anakin stopped swearing to growl, "Sabé—!"

But I didn't find out what else he was going to say, because I shamelessly stole Obi-Wan's method of ending a conversation I no longer wanted to participate in and disconnected him.

 **Expected Update Time: ...um...well... it's definitely going to be before June 6th and it'll probably be before May 8th, but it might also be before April 27th. We'll see. (I got a job in my field, guys! Two jobs, actually, because, apparently, I am out of my mind and also potentially a workaholic! But, basically, that means things are changing and I don't know how yet. Next update I'll have a much better idea of what my life and free-time looks like)**


	5. Unity

**Minor edit 6/12/2018  
**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 4: Unity

After disconnecting Anakin, I finished my leg exercises and began to make dinner, for once taking great pleasure in the task. I particularly enjoyed chopping up the meat and veggies and then chucking them into the pan. By the time I finished cooking, I felt considerably less furious.

And by the time I finished eating dinner and sending Padmé a message saying that I'd be coming over to visit later that night, I was starting to feel a little bad about disconnecting Anakin.

As I climbed into the air taxi that would take me to Padmé's, I resolved to apologize to him. While he probably should have told me what in the stars he had been talking about, it wasn't his fault that my comm call with Obi-Wan had used up most of my patience.

My planned apology was still on my mind as I let myself into Padmé's apartment.

"I'm here!" I shouted, as I stepped off the elevator and into the familiar entrance hallway.

Laughter rang out from the sitting room.

Curious, I hung up my cloak, and turned the corner into the sitting room.

Padmé and Dormé were sitting on the sofa facing the entrance, bent over laughing. Moteé and Ellé sat across from them, but weren't laughing. Instead, they had twisted in the sofa to stare at me.

"What's so funny?" I asked the room.

"Hello, Sabé," Dormé, Padmé's Head Senatorial Handmaiden, giggled, instead of answering my question.

"You always announce yourself like that, don't you?" Moteé's eyebrows were nearly at her hairline.

Next to her, Ellé's eyebrows were just as high, but she said, "Don't be silly, Moteé—of course she doesn't."

Moteé turned away from me to roll her eyes at Ellé. "Of course she does. It's obvious. Why else would Senator Amidala and Dormé be laughing?"

"Why would they be laughing about something she always does? Obviously, they're laughing because she doesn't always shout from the hall," Ellé said, turning away from me to roll her eyes at Moteé.

Ellé and Moteé had previously been handmaidens for Queen Jamillia, and had only transferred into Padmé's service within the last month. I didn't know either of them very well, but I still knew where this was going. Ellé and Moteé were already infamous within the Naboo embassy for their bickering.

"Right, okay," I said loudly, before Moteé could respond. "Hello Moteé, Ellé, Dormé, Padmé. I'm very sorry to have interrupted your meeting."

By this point, Dormé and Padmé had almost collected themselves.

"Oh, Sabé," Padmé smiled widely, shaking her head at me. "Please don't worry about interrupting."

"Truly,' Dormé agreed, grinning. "It is not a problem at all. We do have a couple more items to go through, though, if you would like to sit in?"

I stared at her, considering. I loved being a midwife but there were some days when I ached to be a handmaiden again, to know all the ins and outs of the political center of the galaxy, to feel the rush of adrenaline that came with being in danger or protecting someone. It could be fun to step back into my old position, if only for a little while.

Padmé kept me fairly well updated on what was going on with her career and her security situation, though. And what she didn't say, I was actually probably happier not knowing. Also, it was no longer my place to run a meeting. It was Dormé's.

So, the only real reason to stay would be to see how Dormé ran her meetings as compared to how I had run mine. And after the whole starship explosion disaster a few years ago, I had gotten to know Dormé well enough that I no longer wanted to try and compare us. It just did both of us a disservice.

So I smiled and said, "Thanks for asking. But, no, I don't think I will. I have enough to keep me occupied while I wait. Do you mind if I-?" I pointed towards Padmé's bedroom. If Anakin was here, that was most likely where he'd be waiting.

"Not at all," Padmé said.

"It was nice to see you, Sabé," Dormé said.

I shot her a smile as I walked towards the bedroom. "You too. We'll have to find time to get some caf together, or something." I hesitated for a moment. Then I stopped walking and asked, "How's Versé?"

My former co-worker still lived on Coruscant, but I hadn't spoken to her since we had ended up in the medcenter after the explosion that had killed Cordé. I knew she and Dormé kept in touch though. While the explosion had ended whatever friendship Versé and I had shared, it had made Dormé and Versé much closer.

Dormé gave me a soft, kind look that nearly made me squirm. "She's doing well. She's still working with Fenler's Security Center and loving it."

"Good," I nodded firmly. "That's good."

"It is," Dormé agreed. "And we will certainly have to get caf together sometime, Sabé. We don't see each other nearly enough."

"We don't," I said, gladly taking the out she'd given me. "See you later, Dormé. Bye Moteé, Ellé." I nodded at the two other handmaidens, who were watching the scene with ill-disguised interest.

"Good-bye," The three handmaidens chorused as I waved quickly, hurrying down the hall to the bedroom.

Bit awkward, as far as goodbyes went, but it was what it was. I let myself into Padmé's room.

Anakin wasn't there yet.

But that was okay. I hadn't been lying when I said I had things to keep me busy.

Eirtaé, Rabé, Yané, Saché, and I had taken to writing each other weekly messages over the last few years, in an effort to keep better in touch. I typically wrote my own message on the first day of the week, which would be today. However, with my exercises, my comm calls, and my fury-fueled cooking session, I'd yet to read my messages today, much less send out one of my own.

After a quick glance around Padmé's room—which, on second thought, probably wasn't the best place to wait—I nixed the idea of sitting on the bed, and instead carefully lowered myself to the floor, leaning against the wall.

Then, I opened my messages and settled in to read.

Eirtaé, as always, sent adorable pictures of Reneé and had lots of exasperated, yet fond, stories of the hijinks her husband and her ten month old got up to. She had more stories than usual, as she had just come back to Naboo after a business trip and, apparently, Ras and Reneé had very nearly destroyed the neighborhood while she was off planet, which seemed to amuse her far more than it upset her. Work, she mentioned briefly, was also continuing to go well.

Rabé, on the other hand, wrote almost exclusively about how well work was going. She wrote paragraphs about how the flower shop's business was continuing to boom and how she was seriously considering opening a second location. She also included two small, irritated sentences near the end of the message, talking about how her aunt kept bothering her about rejoining the royal handmaidens so she could keep a closer eye on her cousin, who was now Queen Apailana.

Yané, who still didn't quite seem to get that most people had lives in addition to their work, gushed about how she was certain she and her partner, Ralston, (and whether they were only work partners or something more remained as unclear as ever) were on the verge of a breakthrough with their research on transatomic physics. However, unlike usual, Yané did not suddenly start writing in physics-speak. Instead, she apologized for the lack of detail, saying she couldn't include any more information as she and Ralston were fairly certain a team of physicists from Hosnian Prime were trying to hack into their comm system and steal their research.

Saché, as per usual, had sent the shortest message. She wrote one sentence in reply to each of our last messages, one sentence about how much she loved bounty hunting, and one sentence about how annoyed she was that her parents kept insisting she settle down and get married. The rest of the message was filled, not with words, but with gorgeous holos of the three planets she'd been to since last writing to us.

I was halfway through my reply to them, when Anakin stormed into the room, closely followed by an oddly regal looking Padmé.

My eyebrows furrowed. "Did you just walk past all the handmaidens, Anakin?"

Anakin glared at me with such venom that I was a little surprise I didn't drop dead on the spot. Clearly, the last few hours had not calmed his temper the way it had mine.

"No," said Padmé, ignoring her obviously foul-tempered and now pacing husband in favor of sitting at the edge of the bed. "Apparently, Anakin was hiding on the patio, waiting for them all to leave, as the moment the elevator door shut behind them, he rushed in. This was a bit of surprise, as I believe you neglected to mention that this wasn't just a social visit." Padmé's voice was unnervingly pleasant.

"I didn't tell you why I was coming by?" I tried to remember the comm message I'd left with very little success. Mainly, I remembered feeling a little bit angry and a lot guilty. But still, I couldn't have just completely forgotten to tell her the purpose of my visit, right? That was a pretty enormous thing to forget.

"No," Padmé said, still sounding perfectly sweet. "No, you didn't tell me why you were coming by."

"Oh," I said. Apparently I _had_ forgotten. "Oops? Sorry." But Anakin's pace had picked up considerably and he was starting to turn red, so I turned my attention to him instead. "And I'm sorry to you, too, Anakin. I shouldn't have disconnected you. I'd had a very frustrating conversation with Obi-Wan before you commed, so I'd sort of already run out of patience. I was also very confused. But it wasn't fair of me to take everything out on you."

"There's nothing to be confused about!" Anakin whirled to a stop, seemingly solely so that he could more effectively glare at me. "Padmé's going to die and no one cares but me!"

"Padmé's going to what now?" I said.

Padmé heaved a sigh. "I am not to going to die, Anakin. I told you. Women very rarely have any complications with childbirth on Coruscant and Sabé said that everything is progressing normally with the pregnancy."

"Well, she's wrong!" Anakin snapped. "My mother _died,_ Padmé! I couldn't save her. I won't let the same thing happen to you! I won't let you die!"

What in the stars did his mom have to do with anything?

"Anakin," Padmé said, "Sabé is a midwife. She does—"

"I don't care what Sabé does!" Anakin burst. "You are going to die if we don't do something about it! And Sabé is being stupid and—"

"Now, hang on!" I interrupted loudly. Anakin had brought me into it, and I couldn't defend myself, because I had no idea what he was talking about. Also, my thoughts were already whirling through my head so fast that I couldn't make sense of them. "Hold on for a second, will you? I have absolutely no idea what either of you are talking about, and I need to a moment to process! So just—wait! Just—just wait, for a couple of seconds while I figure out what is going on here, okay?"

Padmé sighed again, louder this time. Still, she clasped her hands in her lap and stared at me without saying a word.

Anakin just gaped at me.

But he was also being quiet.

So. Time to review everything I knew about the situation.

One: Anakin was convinced Padmé was going to die. Two: Padmé was convinced he was wrong, because I said her pregnancy was going well. Three: Anakin had brought up the fact that his mother had died, for some reason. Four: Anakin and Obi-Wan had a conversation that resulted in Obi-Wan being convinced that I was going to die because— _Oh._

"Anakin," I said slowly, "Did you have a dream that Padmé was going to die in childbirth?"

Anakin's mouth, if possible, fell open even further.

My stomach started to churn. With some effort, though, I managed to keep quiet long enough for him to gather his thoughts.

Unfortunately, once he had gotten over his surprise, instead of answering my question, he spun on Padmé. "You said you told her!"

"I did tell her," Padmé said. "That's why we did the exam, so we could ease some of your worries." Padmé stood up and crossed over to Anakin, gently placing her hands on his arms. "Anakin, I understand that having children is frightening—I'm scared too. But—"

"Padmé," Anakin interrupted, shaking his head. "I didn't dream you died because I was afraid."

At his words, my stomach bottomed out entirely. Anakin kept talking, saying something to Padmé but I didn't hear a word of it.

My prophetic dreams told me flat out how to change things but Anakin's were different. His dreams merely showed him what would happen. And, last time, he had not been able to change anything. His mother had died. Maybe his dreams couldn't be changed. Maybe they always came true.

Maybe Padmé, one of my oldest and best friends, was going to die.

That awful, terrible thought seemed to echo in my head, pushing everything else out of my mind, until all I could see was Padmé, lying dead in one of my exam rooms.

My heart clenched and I felt like throwing up.

Padmé couldn't die. She had so much to live for; so much she still had to accomplish. She had a husband who loved her and twins on the way. She had a republic to protect and guide. She had friends who loved and needed her.

She couldn't die.

No.

She _wouldn't_ die. We wouldn't let her.

"So, how are we going to stop your dream from coming true, Anakin? How are we going to keep Padmé alive?" I asked abruptly, blinking as I looked up from my lap to Padmé and Anakin.

Only—I blinked again. Padmé was white-faced, sitting on the edge of the bed with her arms curled tightly around her stomach, where the twins were. Anakin was sitting next to her, an arm wrapped around her and eyes flashing.

Both of them stared at me blankly, without saying a word.

"Are you both okay?" I asked, grabbing my cane and beginning to haul myself to my feet

"I thought—" Padmé said faintly, her eyes not quite focused on me. "I thought it was because of nerves. That it was only a normal reaction to the shock of finding out that we were expecting. I hadn't realized it might be prophetic, like your dreams about— Are you sure it's not—?" Padmé turned towards Anakin, her eyes enormous in her face.

"I'm sure." Anakin pulled Padmé closer to him. "These dreams feel exactly the same as the ones about my mother. But I won't let it happen, Padmé. I won't let you die."

"What about the twins? Did you see them dying too?" Padmé asked, huddling into her husband.

Even though I was finally standing again, I continued to hover near the wall. Maybe I shouldn't be here. This seemed like an exceptionally private moment. Maybe I should wait in the hall until—

"I don't know what happens to them." Anakin's voice cracked.

Definitely should wait in the hall. I crept towards the door as quietly as a woman with a cane could.

However, just as I reached the door pad, Anakin said with a stronger voice, "Sabé, I don't know what we're going to do. I was hoping you would know. You were supposed to die, but you were able to stop it from happening because of your dreams. Can't you do that again?"

I slowly turned back around, to see both Anakin and Padmé looking at me hopefully.

"I—" I stared at them helplessly. I didn't have a single clue as to what we should do. My dreams were entirely different from Anakin's and, to be honest, my method of dealing with my dreams had very much been 'let's ignore it and maybe it will go away' which didn't seem like it would cut it, in this situation. "Well—" Maybe a little more information would help generate some ideas? Or at least one? "Okay, so, do you know how Padmé dies?" I walked back towards them.

"In childbirth," Anakin said promptly.

That didn't actually help all that much.

"Okay," I said, "That's something, I guess. Do you know when in childbirth? Or how? Or what might be going wrong with the delivery to cause us to lose her?"

Anakin shook his head. "No. I just know she's in pain and that she's dying."

That did not narrow it down at all.

"Okay… well…" I searched for some sort of positive side to our complete lack of information. "You at least know for sure that she's dying because something is going wrong with the delivery, right?"

"Yes, it's—wait." Anakin's brow furrowed. Then, slowly, he shook his head. "No, I don't know. It might not be complications from the pregnancy. I don't know. I don't—" Anakin shook his head and said, "It's not going to happen." He scowled at me. "She's not going to die!"

"I never said she was going to! I'm just trying to figure out what we know and what we don't know."

"We should focus on the twins," Padmé said in a small voice before Anakin could respond.

I turned toward her with a frown.

"What do you mean, Padmé?" Anakin asked. "The twins might not even be in danger. I saw _you_ die. That needs to be our focus."

"No." Padmé's voice was stronger. "I don't want the twins to die. We should focus on saving them."

"The twins shouldn't die. Anakin didn't dream of anything happening to them and they're perfectly healthy right now. And, actually," I said slowly, "If Anakin said he's not sure that it's the childbirth itself that will cause you to die, I would be inclined to think it's something else. Everything seems to be going well with your pregnancy, at this point. I really wasn't expecting any complications at all. Maybe something else happens that causes you to go into labor early?"

"Are you sure the twins will be okay?" Padmé said, completing ignoring everything said about her.

"Well, I mean," I shrugged a little uncomfortably, "I can't be positive, of course. But if Anakin didn't dream of anything happening to them, I don't think anything will? Like I said, they're doing beautifully and, even if you went into labor right now, I don't think they'd have any major complications. Certainly nothing that the medcenter couldn't handle."

"If it's not the labor that's killing her, what is?" Anakin demanded, completing ignoring everything I said about the twins.

How would I know? I wasn't the one having the dreams. However, I graciously kept quiet about that and simply said, "I don't know, Anakin."

The next three hours passed quickly.

Anakin continued to demand that we save Padmé, without offering any information about what, precisely, she needed to be saved from or how we were supposed to go about doing it. Padmé continued to demand that we focus all of our energy towards ensuring the twins' safety, despite the fact that we had barely any evidence that they were in danger. I continued to have exactly no ideas on what we should do.

So, it was with an enormous amount of frustration and a not inconsiderable amount of fear that I left the apartment, promising to comm Padmé and Anakin the moment I came up with something we could do. Padmé and Anakin promised the same.

It wasn't until I was tossing and turning in bed that I realized that I had never figured out how Obi-Wan played into all of this or how he had come to the incorrect conclusion that I was in danger of dying.

Groaning, I slammed a pillow over my head and reluctantly decided to comm Obi-Wan in the morning.

 **Expected Update Time: June 25th hopefully; definitely July 17th (I think the earlier date will work, because I am starting to settle in at work, but just in case...)**


	6. Conversations

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 5: Conversations

I commed Obi-Wan bright and early the next day.

After exactly seven beeps, a cool female voice instructed me to leave him a message.

"Hi Obi-Wan, this is Sabé. I hope everything's going well with you," I said. "Uh, if you could comm me back when you get a chance, I would appreciate it. I've, um, got some more information about that thing you commed me about yesterday and I was hoping we could—" Wait. Could I even talk to Obi-Wan about this? It involved Padmé's pregnancy, which I was sworn to secrecy about. But, then again, it didn't necessarily _have_ to be related to Padmé's pregnancy as Anakin wasn't certain that childbirth would be responsible for her death. And Obi-Wan had commed me first and seemed to know something about Anakin's dreams. But, then again—

"Oh, this is ridiculous," I muttered. "Look, I'm not actually sure how much I can say, but I was still hoping we could talk." About what though? What was I allowed to tell him? Could I say anything at all without breaking Padmé and Anakin's trust in me? Despite my doubts, I soldiered on, unsure what else there was to do but continue with the message. "I have lunch at the usual time and get off work same time as always, too, if you want to comm me then. Um. Talk to you soon. I hope?" I disconnected the comm with a wince. Not really one of my better comm messages. At all. Also, I now had literally no idea of what I would even say to Obi-Wan once he did comm me back. Would I just have to say 'whoops never mind' while tittering awkwardly?

Why had I thought comming him was a good idea again?

But there was nothing I could do about it now, unless I decided to spend the rest of my time before work learning how to slice into comm links and delete messages. And that didn't really seem like the best use of my time. Especially as Obi-Wan would likely hear that disaster of a message several weeks before I managed to grasp even the basics of slicing. I had a lot of skills but, unlike Moteé and Ellé who had a very strange and eclectic skill set, manipulating technology wasn't really one of them.

Tapping my fingers on the table, I considered options for what to do next. I had left myself about an hour to talk to Obi-Wan before work. Going back to sleep would have been the ideal solution. But, with my luck, I'd just start to doze off when I had to wake up again. Besides, my caf was almost done brewing and just the smell of it was enough to make me feel more alert.

As I waited quietly for the caf to finish, I absentmindedly thought up a few ideas for saving Padmé (kidnap her and stick her in a high security medcenter conveniently located on some backwater planet no one knew about; kidnap her and put her in stasis until we figured out what in the stars was going to kill her and how to stop it from happening; kidnap her and—for some reason, all of my ideas seemed to involve kidnapping her, which probably would not go over so well).

I was pouring myself a cup of caf, when a logical idea of how to deal with that disastrous comm message finally hit me. It was a bit embarrassing, actually, that I hadn't thought of it right away.

Grabbing a pastry and taking a small sip of my delicious caf, I hurried back to the kitchen table. Then, I commed Anakin.

Halfway through the fourth beep, the link connected.

"Did you figure out how to—ow!" The sound of clashing, clanking metal rang through the comm link, followed by a loud thud and a flurry of curse words.

I stared at my comm. "Um, Anakin?" I finally asked once the swearing stopped.

"Yeah," he panted, "Yeah, I'm here. I was—oh come on, you blasted piece of—" Another loud thud preceded a small, pained sounding groan.

"Is this a bad time?"

"No!" he said quickly. "No, this is fine! The tunnels are too blasted small, but it's fine. I can talk here and keep crawling when we're done. Did you figure out how to save Padmé?"

"Tunnels? What tunnels?" Alarm crept through me even as I tried to squash it down. He and Obi-Wan hadn't been put on another mission already, had they?

"I have a meeting with the council in about an hour, so I'm sneaking back into the Temple right now," Anakin said. "There are these old maintenance tunnels that run all over the older sections of Coruscant. I found a few right under the oldest section of the Temple when I was younger. It's how I've been visiting Padmé without anyone knowing. But never mind that. What's the plan?"

He sounded so eager that my heart just dropped.

"Well, I don't really have one, just yet. But I do have an idea that might lead to a plan?" I said, hoping to put a positive spin on the comm call so he wasn't too disappointed.

"Oh." Anakin was quiet for a moment. "Well, what is it?" he finally asked, the energy seeming to have been drained right out of him.

"I think we should bring Obi-Wan in on this," I said.

Anakin snorted. "I already tried. He was almost as useless as Yoda was, and Yoda told me to let Padmé die!"

"What?" I blurted. That didn't make any sense. If Obi-Wan hadn't agreed to help Anakin, then why had he called me and tried to talk me to into hiring bodyguards, of all things?

"I know!" Anakin seethed, seeming to mistake my honest bewilderment for something else. "Obi-Wan knows what happened to my mother. He should be taking this seriously! But all he said was that he would 'reason with her'. And Obi-Wan might be good at negotiation but you can't politely argue someone out of dying. That's not how death works! He was just trying to appease me—he doesn't care about me or Padmé or any—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I interrupted, sitting bolt upright in my chair. Where was all this anger coming from? Why would Anakin ever think that Obi-Wan didn't care? "Hang on, now! I think Obi-Wan just got confused. You know that frustrating comm call I had before I blew up at you? That was from Obi-Wan. He thought I wasn't taking your dreams seriously—which he said he trusts absolutely—so he was afraid I was going to die. He had commed me to convince me to, like, hire bodyguards or something."

"What," Anakin said flatly.

"Yeah, I know," I said. "Bodyguards? Really? But, the point is, I think Obi-Wan is trying to help. I think he's just really confused! Although," I frowned, "by the end of the comm call, he seemed to realize he had misunderstood something. Did he talk to you about it, to try and straighten it out?"

"Why would he think I was talking about you?" Anakin sounded totally flabbergasted. "I didn't give him any names because I didn't want him to realize that Padmé and I are married but I didn't say anything that would lead him to think—unless—but that doesn't—huh."

My eyebrows rose. "Care to clue me in here? A little confused over here." 'Little' was an understatement. Complete and total confusion seemed well on its way to becoming an annoyingly regular part of my personal life. I didn't like it.

"It's nothing," Anakin said slowly. "I'll talk to Obi-Wan today to try and explain some things."

"Do you mind if I talk to him about it too?" I asked, finally directly addressing my original reason for contacting him. "I feel like having a conversation about what's actually going on could help clear the air between us and maybe if we join our heads together we'll be able to come up with a way to prevent your dream from happening. I mean, it almost worked last time, right?"

"What do you mean it almost worked last time?"

"With your mom?" I reminded him. "Obi-Wan and I spent quite a bit of time talking about your dreams and what we should do about them. Remember? I mean, we didn't quite come up with a solution before you guys had to leave on a mission and I got myself blown up, but I feel like we were pretty close to one. And this time we won't have to waste time trying to figure out if the dream is prophetic or not because we already know that it is, so hopefully that'll make things go smoother this time around."

There was a small pause. Then Anakin said, "I didn't know that."

I frowned down at the comm link. "Didn't know what? That we both think your dreams are prophetic?"

"No," Anakin said slowly. "I didn't know that you and Obi-Wan spoke about my dreams about Mom. Why did you—?" Anakin's voice, unusually soft already, trailed into silence.

"Obi-Wan was worried about you," I answered carefully, not entirely sure what was going on here. "And so was I. So we carved some time out of our schedules to see if we could figure out what to do to help."

There was another pause. Then Anakin repeated, "I didn't know that."

Where did Anakin want me to go with this?

"Well," I tried a little awkwardly, "Now you do?"

Anakin didn't say anything and the silence was starting to grow a little unbearable.

To break it, I cleared my throat loudly and said, "So! Do you mind if I speak to Obi-Wan about this?"

"I—yes, that's fine," Anakin said distractedly before his voice hardened. "But don't tell him that Padmé is pregnant. Or that we're married. We have you for the pregnancy aspect of things. Obi-Wan doesn't need to know."

"How is he going to help if he doesn't know the full story?" I protested. "Padmé being pregnant is a pretty important piece of—"

"No," said Anakin sharply. "Don't tell him. Obi-Wan's a friend but he's also—the Council meeting!" There was a loud clash followed by two muffled thuds in rapid succession "I'm late—Obi-Wan's gonna kill—"

The link broke as the comm went dead.

I stared at it for a moment longer, trying to process everything that had just happened.

Absently, I reached for my cup and took a sip of caf—only to immediately gag and spit it back out again, staring at it in disgust.

Baffling, stubborn friends and gross, cold caf.

What a way to start the morning.

Fortunately, my work day went much better than my morning had. Before I knew it, I was waving goodbye to my last patient and jotting down one final note regarding her health status as I wandered back into the office. I made idle chit-chat with two of my co-workers as I put my desk to rights and gathered up my belongings. Then, with one last wave, I left the office and made my way through the clinic, clicking on my comm link as I went. My heart sank as I looked at it.

No new messages or missed comms.

But, I rallied, just because Obi-Wan hadn't returned my comm yet didn't mean he wouldn't.

This conviction that he was probably just planning to call a little later, after I was settled in at home, lasted me the whole ride home and through all of my leg stretches.

My hope began to flag as I—very reluctantly—began to make dinner. Just as I was starting to think he wasn't going to comm at all, I heard a very familiar beep.

Relief rushed in as I grabbed my cane from where it was hooked on the counter and hurried over to the table, where I had left the comm link.

In my haste to answer it, I fumbled the comm a little, nearly dropping it the ground.

Cursing under my breath, I repositioned it and jammed the connection on. "Hi!"

"Well," a familiar voice drawled, "you sound a lot more excited than I thought you'd be."

My heart dropped. "Wicaté."

"Obviously," she scoffed. "Who else would be calling you from Singular Creations?"

Singular Creations was Wicaté's pride and joy. It was a high-end Coruscanti store and one of the only places in the galaxy that sold clothes designed by the single most sought after fashion designer in the galaxy—Wicaté herself ("Obviously," she had snorted when, a few months ago, I had showed her the article that declared her the most popular designer in both the Core and Mid-Rim Worlds with the statistics to back the claim up. "I'm far and away the most talented fashion designer still living—why in the stars wouldn't I be the most popular too?")

"I didn't look at the link number," I told her a little lamely.

"You never do," she said. "Anyway, to the point—I was comming because I have to reschedule dinner. I can't make it tomorrow."

"We have to reschedule again?" I groaned.

"Fashion week _is_ coming up, Sabé," she said, even though fashion week was actually almost six full months away, "And I had an idea for this _marvelous_ new outfit." Wicaté began gushing about a new dress design she'd just thought up an hour or so ago.

I listened and responded to her as best as I could, even though a good half of it sailed right over my head.

I had known Wicaté since my days as a royal handmaiden and she was a good friend of mine, even if somedays I couldn't quite remember why. She was also notoriously unreliable. Her job was her world and she saw no problem at all with cancelling long standing plans to chase a wisp of an idea regarding a new design. It was just the way she was.

After we chatted for a bit (and most of our conversation was Wicaté talking and me attempting to keep up), we chose a new day to have dinner and I said goodbye somewhat reluctantly. Sometimes, she could be a little bit difficult. But she was also one of my few friends who lived on the same planet as I did and she was the only good friend on planet who was not currently involved in the whole dream disaster. It would have been nice to see her and get my mind off of everything.

But it was what it was. Once Wicaté had her mind made up about something, practically nothing could change it.

But still… quite against my will, my gaze drifted over to my stupid comm link.

It would have been nice to have something to look forward to, something to distract me from the fact that I had been home for hours, and Obi-Wan still hadn't returned my comm call.

 **Expected Update Time: August 10th hopefully; August 28th definitely (Guys, I highly advise against regularly working 6-7 days a week if you have the choice. I'm not super great at taking my own advice, though, so when I update is kinda going to depend on how good I get at remembering that free time is important to me and that I don't always have to say 'yes' when my supervisor asks me if I can work the weekend too.) (Also, I'm sort of starting to think I should have named this fic 'To Comm a Friend' instead of 'To Change the Galaxy' haha!)  
**


	7. Visitor

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 6: Visitor

Two days later, I had still not received any comm calls from Obi-Wan. I had, however, gotten roughly six comms from Anakin, who had been comming more and more frequently as the days passed and sounding increasingly desperate each time we spoke.

Neither of us had been able to come up with any decent ideas as to how to protect Padmé and the twins and Anakin's potential solutions were becoming less practical and more—well. The last idea he had proposed had started with a high profile kidnapping and then ended with faking Padmé's death. Luckily, he had realized how entirely not possible that was on his own without me having to break the news to him. However, the fact that he had actively considered it was more than a little worrying.

Our last comm call had consisted almost entirely of me attempting to convince him that maybe he should think less and sleep more. The comm had ended with Anakin miserably admitting that he saw Padmé die every time he closed his eyes, so he thought sleep was doing him more harm than good.

After that comm, I tried to talk to Padmé about Anakin and his difficulty sleeping. I had been hoping that, together, we might be able to come up with a way to help him calm down a little and maybe get some rest. Instead, I had found myself caught in a very strange conversation where Padmé stopped herself from saying things far more often than she actually said anything. Then, before I could even figure out if Padmé was trying to talk about the twins, the Republic or possibly both, she gave me an oddly breezy farewell, agreed to comm me later, and then disconnected. Because Padmé had been so preoccupied with whatever it was that was preoccupying her, I hadn't even had the chance to bring up Anakin's difficulty sleeping.

So, the first time a loud chime echoed through my apartment three days after I commed Obi-Wan, I groaned, hauled myself to my feet, and opened the door, fully expecting to see either a frantic, sleep deprived Anakin or an anxious but determined Padmé waiting for me outside.

Instead, Obi-Wan stood patiently in the hallway.

"Hello, Sabé," he said. "I am sorry to drop by unannounced. Is this a bad time?"

I stared at him. It was my day off from work and my only plans had been to lock myself in my apartment and brainstorm ways to help Padmé and Anakin. I was wearing the long ratty nightgown I'd had for almost decade. My feet were bare. My hair was down.

I smiled at him brightly, hoping that maybe that would direct his attention towards my teeth, which I had brushed that morning. "Oh, no, no, no; now's fine. Of course it's fine; it's totally fine; it's—" I stepped aside to let Obi-Wan into my apartment, before I could finish repeating myself for the fourth time.

As Obi-Wan walked past me, though, I immediately wished I had just kept him outside while I continued to tell him how fine everything was.

There were two vases of flowers on my kitchen table—one was full of half-dead flowers, and the other was full of entirely dead flowers. My slippers were strewn on the floor leading from the sofa to the door and my caf table was covered with datapads. My holoscreen was showing a really cheesy holodrama, where a gorgeous Twi'lek woman was confessing her love for an equally gorgeous Human man. My favorite quilt was also bunched up on the sofa, and I'd thrown my cloak across my armchair, leaving Obi-Wan nowhere to sit.

"Um, sorry about the mess," I said as I kicked my slippers under the kitchen table and then hurriedly hobbled over to the living room section of my kitchen/living room in order to click the holoscreen off. That done, I quickly stuffed my quilt and cloak under my arm. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna, uh—" I nodded at my room, spun around before he could say anything, and then disappeared inside, slamming my hand against the doorpad.

My cheeks burned and my heart was trying to hide inside my toes.

But never mind that. Shaking my head furiously to clear out of all the unhelpful thoughts currently tripping around inside of it, I chucked my cloak and quilt on the bed before lurching towards the closet.

Under a minute later (a quick change time worthy of my decoy days), I re-entered the living room, smiling sheepishly. My dress was pretty wrinkled, my socks didn't match, and Rabé would probably cry if she saw my bun, but it was an improvement. It was also quick enough that it hadn't allowed Obi-Wan too much time to look around my apartment and notice all the awful things I hadn't noticed. I slowly made my way towards the sofa, to grab the corner opposite of the one Obi-Wan had claimed.

"Sorry about that," I said, trying to ignore my still burning cheeks. "I wasn't really planning on going anywhere today, so I just—" Obi-Wan's face was perfectly polite, but his eyes were dancing. My face did the impossible and got even hotter. Right. Well, too late to save my dignity now—moving on. "Well, never mind that. Whatever. Doesn't matter. How can I help you?"

I smiled again. Smiles made everything seem more purposeful and less awkward, I was pretty sure. At the very least, a smile had never made anything worse. As I smiled and slowly pulled my feet up under me, my face cooled from 'inferno' to 'campfire' levels of hot.

A smile crept across Obi-Wan's face. "First, I would like to apologize for not comming you back. Time kept slipping away from me and then, after this morning, a visit seemed more appropriate."

"It's not a problem," I said, something settling inside me as my face continued to return to a normal temperature. "I know all the Jedi are busy, and I'm sure that, as a member of the Council, you're even busier. But what happened this morning?"

"I'd ask you to keep this to yourself, Sabé," Obi-Wan began, his expression fading into something more serious. "But we believe we have found General Grievous."

My eyebrows shot up as I collapsed back against the armrest.

"Truly?" I breathed.

With Count Dooku dead, General Grievous was the last true threat to the Republic. While there were plenty of other Separatists and aspiring Separatist leaders, none of them had even a quarter of the tactical or strategical abilities of Grievous, who had only a fraction of the talent for war that Dooku had. Already the news reports on the war had begun to hint that, without Dooku, the tide of the war was finally starting to change. If we could eliminate Grievous as well as Dooku, we could probably use the resulting momentum to defeat the Separatist forces and finally begin peace talks.

"We believe so, yes," Obi-Wan said slowly.

"Stars," I said. "Just—just— _stars."_

I blinked at Obi-Wan and my living room for a moment, trying to let the enormity of what I had just been told sink in. The war could be over in a matter of weeks. After so many years of fighting, we could finally start building towards peace.

Then Obi-Wan said, "I have been chosen to lead the forces searching for Grievous."

My attention snapped back to Obi-Wan, who was now sitting with a perfectly straight back on my soft sofa, his face looking entirely Jedi Master-like.

"But you just got back!" The words slipped out before I even knew I was thinking them.

Obi-Wan's face softened and, suddenly, all I could see were the shadows under his eyes, the furrow between his brow, and the tense set to his shoulders.

Why could I never think before I spoke?

"Sorry, I mean, of course you have to go. It's Grievous. So I'm sure the Republic needs to send its best, which is you, obviously," I hurried to say, but Obi-Wan's posture didn't relax and his eyes remained heartbreakingly distant, as if he wasn't looking at me in my disaster of an outfit, but at some other disaster, lifetimes and lightyears away. "I just hate watching you leave." Words kept slipping out of my mouth without my consent. I, once again, hurried to lessen the impact of my selfish stupidity. "Every time you're gone, you seem to start some sort of musical group and I'm never invited. I'm not entirely awful at singing, Obi-Wan," I teased as gently as I could, cautiously sneaking my good foot out from under me to nudge him in the knee. "I only slip out of key about half the time, and I feel that should qualify me for a place in your up and coming band. I'm pretty hurt you haven't asked, honestly."

Obi-Wan's shoulders dropped slightly as his lips quirked upwards. "Anakin had a field day when he saw that headline. I don't know how the holonet comes up with some of these things."

"Good inside sources," I said with mock solemnity. "No secret is safe from them, Master Kenobi, not even your very well hidden dream of skyrocketing to superstardom."

That earned me something very close to a full smile as Obi-Wan relaxed back into the sofa cushions.

"I suppose you're right. After all these years, I truly should know better than to try and hide anything from the eminently trustworthy reporters of the Galactic Star. They always uncover the truth eventually," Obi-Wan said drily.

"That they do," I smiled.

The silence that followed was comfortable. Obi-Wan sat in his corner of the sofa with a comfortable posture and a face that wasn't a mask. He was still here and he was still safe. And he would be for at least a little while yet, which counted for something.

Finally, the silence was broken when Obi-Wan sighed.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone," he said. "It could be only a few days or it could take weeks. It will depend on how good our information is."

Weeks. Somehow, weeks always seemed to turn into months. But Obi-Wan didn't need someone saying sad things he probably already knew.

"Well, I'm sure it won't take you and Anakin long to find him," I said, trying to sound like I believed it. "And," I added, suddenly finding an actual small silver lining to the situation, "it might be good for him to be off planet and away from—everything."

Obi-Wan sunk deeper into the sofa, exhaustion suddenly clear in every line of his body. "Anakin's not coming."

A swear slipped out.

Obi-Wan sighed again. "I know. He's not at his best right now."

I stared at him. Talk about an understatement. Anakin had seriously considered fake murder and kidnapping a top medical researcher as a viable solution to his dreams. I was halfway convinced the poor man was two or three sleepless nights away from a total nervous breakdown.

Obi-Wan shot me a look filled with poorly hidden anxiety. "Do you think you and Padmé could keep an eye on him? His dreams haven't been letting him sleep and—" Obi-Wan broke off and stared at the datapads filling my caf table. Then, slowly, he continued. "I trust Anakin with my life and I am certain he won't do anything foolish. But the idea of leaving him right now is—" Obi-Wan struggled for a moment before saying, "—making me uneasy."

"Yeah," I said slowly, trying to decide what to say. Obi-Wan didn't have the option to stay and support Anakin. He _had_ to leave to track down Grievous, and I didn't want to say anything that would make going harder for him. But, also, Anakin had seriously suggested we frame Jar Jar for fake murdering Padmé and then allow him to go to real jail for it in order to make the fake murder seem more convincing. "I am, um, somewhat less sure he won't do something stupid? But, uh, I mean, I'll do what I can to make sure he doesn't and I'm sure Padmé would be more than happy to do so as well."

"I saw Padmé earlier this morning and she agreed," Obi-Wan said. "She seems so tired though. I wish I didn't have to add to her burden like this. It must be difficult enough being pregnant while—"

"Ha!" I exclaimed, pointing at him excitedly. "Did you tell Padmé that?"

Obi-Wan looked taken aback. "Tell Padmé what, precisely?"

"The pregnant thing! The fact that she's pregnant! Did you say that to her?"

If someone who supposedly wasn't meant to know she was pregnant had mentioned to her that she was obviously pregnant maybe she'd realize how pointless it was trying to hide her pregnancy! She was carrying twins, for the sake of the stars! You couldn't hide twins! I didn't know why she and Anakin thought she could.

"No," he said slowly. "She hasn't mentioned her pregnancy to me, so it seemed impolite to bring it up. Why?"

I groaned, my head flopping backwards as I stared grumpily at the ceiling. He'd gotten my hopes up that at least something had gotten cleared up and then he'd dashed that hope to pieces. Padmé and Anakin would continue in their blissfully wrong opinion that Obi-Wan and the rest of the galaxy was unaware that Padmé was about to pop and I would continue to be sworn to secrecy about something that wasn't actually a secret. Perfect.

"Nothing," I grumbled. "I'm sworn to secrecy. I was hoping maybe you'd said something that made Padmé realize she was being absurd and that I didn't need to be sworn to secrecy but never mind. Although, if you want to casually say something like that to her, it might make our lives a lot simpler."

Obi-Wan was quiet for a long moment.

"Ugh. Just forget I said anything. You were saying?" I reluctantly straightened my head out so I could look at him again, instead of my ceiling.

"Nothing of particular consequence," Obi-Wan said. "Just that Padmé seems tired."

"Everyone does these days," I sighed.

With Anakin's sleep deprivation being so alarmingly obvious, it was easy to overlook everyone else. But, now that Obi-Wan mentioned it, Padmé had yawned several times on the comm the last time we spoke and her being tired would explain several of her more incoherent sentences. And Obi-Wan looked exhausted too.

"Maybe," I suggested, "We should comm the Separatists and see if they would agree to have several galactic nap days, where we briefly cease the war in order to sleep. I'm sure they have some rest they'd like to catch up on, too."

Obi-Wan laughed softly. "Perhaps you should propose your idea to Padmé and see if she can draft a bill to put before the Senate. I certainly see some merit in the idea."

"It's definitely a thought," I said. "Will you at least have a chance to sleep in hyperspace when you head off to find Grievous?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. We're using a very small, very poorly known hyperspace lane and our stop is almost directly off the lane. It will only take about an hour to get there."

"Well, I suppose sooner there, sooner gone?" I tried to find the bright side.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "That's true. And I truly believe Anakin will not do anything too foolish. Although," he sighed, "I would feel more certain of that if we had a solid plan in place for helping Padmé."

"So Anakin did clear everything up with you then," I said, slumping back against the armrest in relief. "Thank the stars. I had no idea what I was going to say to you if he'd let you keep thinking I was going to die instead of Padmé."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Yes, well." A flush creeped up his face even as he continued on, saying, "Have you any thoughts as to what we can do to keep Padmé alive?"

I desperately wanted to talk to Obi-Wan about the mix up more, especially because I could barely remember the last time I'd seen him so flustered. However, Obi-Wan was always very kind about avoiding topics that made me want to disappear, so it seemed only fair to return the favor. And, besides, we really should try and hash out a plan for Padmé. Although, the more I thought about the situation, the more impossible it seemed.

"Not really. Anakin's dream is honestly almost worse than nothing. I mean, how are we supposed to come up with a plan to prevent it from happening if we don't know when or where or how or why it's going to happen? Unless," and this was my desperate hope, "You've thought of something I missed?"

Obi-Wan hadn't.

Still, we gamely spent the next hour tossing around ideas and searching for some kind of solution.

We didn't find one. And, before we knew it, Obi-Wan was reluctantly standing up and heading for the door.

"I have some last minute preparations to make before we leave," Obi-Wan sighed. "I'm sorry to be leaving behind such a mess for you, Sabé, but you always seem to rise to the occasion." He grinned. "Perhaps I'll come back to find that you have already solved all of our problems with one neat trick."

I snickered as I followed Obi-Wan towards the exit. "Yes, because I have such an excellent track record of addressing things head on. But," I said, a little more seriously, "Truly, Obi-Wan, don't worry. I'm sure we can keep ourselves from falling apart for at least a few more weeks."

Obi-Wan reached the door. But, instead of opening it, he turned around to face me. "I have no doubt. But, if something does happen, please comm me and let me know. I don't know how much I'll be able to help, but—"

I rolled my eyes goodnaturedly. "Trust me, Obi-Wan, you'll hear all about it. How could you even think you wouldn't? I'm pretty sure I've accidentally filled your message box with my comm calls multiple times already."

Obi-Wan smiled faintly. "Thank you, Sabé."

I wasn't quite sure what he was thanking me for, but I still said, "Of course," even as I seized the opportunity to study him for a moment, trying to memorize his smile, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the brightness of his eyes.

I hated when Obi-Wan left.

But, hate it or not, he was leaving. It was his duty to leave. So, reminding myself that he was still safe for now, I grinned at him, leaned my cane against my coat rack, and hugged him.

Obi-Wan, having had several years to get used to my good-bye hugs, hugged me back with very little hesitation.

I closed my eyes and took in a long, deep breath.

"Try and come home in one piece, okay?" I mumbled into Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"I'll do my best," he murmured back.

Then, with a long, shuddery breath, I let go of him, grabbed my cane, and carefully stepped away.

He gave me a lightening quick smile before turning around and opening my door.

I stepped into the doorway after him, watching him stride down the hall, away from me.

When he reached the stairway, he turned around, met my eyes, and lifted his hand in farewell.

I hitched my mouth into something that could hopefully be mistaken for a smile at a distance and waved back.

Then he was gone.

 **Expected Update Time: Before September 4th hopefully; Definitely before September 25th**


	8. Dark

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 7: Dark

I slowly made my way back into my apartment, carefully lowering myself onto one of my kitchen chairs.

I took a few deep breaths and reminded myself that Obi-Wan was an extraordinary Jedi and that he had always come home before. A traitorous part of me whispered that he had also always gone with Anakin before. I tried to argue that I didn't actually know that he and Anakin were always together, but my doubt was not having it.

And the longer I sat there, the bigger my doubt grew and the more awful situations my mind concocted for me. Pretty soon, I was sitting there imagining, not only Obi-Wan dead, but also Padmé and Anakin with him. As various ways my friends might die kept flashing through my brain, tears began to well up in my eyes.

Basically, I was on the verge on bursting into sobs about things that probably wouldn't actually happen.

Once I realized that, I shot to my feet.

Time to do something else.

Something like—I cast around desperately for something I could do to distract myself. After a few moments of increasingly absurd ideas, I remembered the croissant recipe that Padmé had dropped off for me.

Perfect. Baking croissants was probably almost a full day adventure, which was exactly what I needed.

I had just gotten home from the store with all the ingredients, when a chime rang through my apartment for the second time that day.

I groaned. Now what?

Grumbling to myself, I hobbled towards the door, sending a brief, longing look at the counter filled with the items needed to make croissants. Then, reluctantly, I hit the doorpad.

Before the door even opened all the way, Anakin blew past me, knocking into my shoulder.

I staggered towards my coat rack, only barely catching hold of it, and regaining my balance.

"I think I know how to save Padmé," Anakin announced, whirling back towards me and revealing that he was, weirdly, holding three boxes.

After briefly noting the boxes, I turned my attention back to more important things—namely, glaring at him, holding onto my coat rack with white knuckled hands, and trying to slow my heart. Falling was terrible and that had been way too close.

"Why, hello to you, Anakin," I groused. "No, it's perfectly alright that you almost knocked me over, but thank you for apolo—"

"Sabé!" Anakin snapped, striding over to me and shoving the smallest box in my face. "Not the time! Didn't you hear me? I think we can save Padmé!"

My eyebrows shot up as I actually processed what he said. I grabbed the box with my free hand and headed into the kitchen, frowning at the box as it made a small rattling noise with each step.

"How? And what do the boxes have to do with it?" I asked, sliding into a kitchen chair.

"There was this Force sensitive named Plagueis, also known as Plagueis the Wise. He learned how to save people from death," Anakin said, dropping the other two significantly larger boxes next to my two dead bouquets. "I don't know how he did it yet, just that he did. A friend told me about him."

"That sounds promising," I said slowly, trying to strangle the hope blooming in my chest before it got out of control. I did not need to be heartbroken if this ended up being another dead end. "But, the boxes…?"

"Apparently, there's a certain amount of times something has to be mentioned before it gets indexed in the Archives." Anakin threw himself into the chair across from me. "Plagueis hasn't been mentioned enough to get into the catalogue. So," Anakin opened the box nearest to him and tilted it towards me. It held a small mountain of datachips and three datapads, whose blinking red lights informed all and sundry that the datapads had reached their download capacity. "We have to search for him on our own."

My heart sank. "Oh. Great." I opened the box Anakin had given me. There were two additional datapads, each blinking red, and another heap of datachips. "Well, this'll be a fun way to spend my day off."

Anakin scowled, making the dark circles under his eyes seem even darker. "This is for _Padmé_ , Sabé. If we don't find him, she will _die_."

"I know, I know," I said hastily, throwing my hands up in the air in the gesture of surrender. "No need to tell me what's at stake here—I'm definitely going to help! This is just—" Three boxes worth of datachips. Three. Whole. Boxes. "Well. It'll keep us busy. So, are we just looking for any mention of this Plagueis guy? Or of someone called 'The Wise'? Or are there other keywords we need to keep our eyes peeled for? We are not," I pointed at Anakin as firmly as I could, "going to go through these boxes twice because we forgot to look for something the first time around."

Anakin slumped, running a head through his hair. "Sorry, Sabé. I didn't mean to—" Anakin sighed and didn't finish his apology. "I don't know much about him, just what my friend told me. He used midichlorians in the process, somehow, and he could create life as well as stop death. My friend said that his story is a tragedy, because it ends in Plagueis' own death. That's all I know."

I stared at him. "Not very specific, is it?"

"No," Anakin said, slowly pulling a datapad out of his box and booting it up. His shoulders were slumped and, as he waited for his datapad to load, he scrubbed at his eyes. "But it's all I have."

And, with that, we both got to work on our respective boxes.

I tried to focus on the entries that had loaded up on the datapad I had grabbed. After all, this was information from the _Jedi Archive_ —the most comprehensive archive in the galaxy and also one of the most exclusive. Only Jedi and those with special dispensations from the Jedi Council were typically allowed access. (I very determinedly did not think about how Anakin had gotten all of this information out of the Temple and to my apartment, or how much trouble we would get in if anyone found out about it.) Not only was this a once in a lifetime opportunity, but it was also Anakin's first logical idea to save Padmé in days. The information in these entries could very well save my best friend's life.

But.

I couldn't stop slanting looks at Anakin.

He had huge bags under his eyes and his shoulders were slumped. He kept yawning, even as he flicked through the datapad entries. Every once in a while, his head would droop towards his chest, only for him to jerk it back up and begin the process of digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, blinking rapidly, and then shaking his head, as if to clear it.

Watching him was painful. After about two hours, it became absolutely unbearable.

"Alright, Anakin," I announced, putting the datapad I was looking through on the table. "You have to take a nap. I am getting tired just watching you."

Anakin looked up from his datapad, eyes unfocused. He blinked a few times. "Pardon?"

I stood up, strode over, and gave his arm a tug. "Up," I ordered.

Anakin stood up. "What're you…?" he mumbled.

With a firm grip on his arm, I marched over to the sofa. He stumbled behind me.

"I don't…Sabé?" he asked, blinking at me as I pushed on one of his shoulders, trying to get him to sit on the sofa.

"You are sleeping," I informed him.

His eyes finally came back into focus. "No, I'm—" Anakin yawned so wide it looked like his jaw might crack. "—not! We have to find—"

"You have to sleep," I interrupted, leaning my cane against the caf table so I could push on both his shoulders. "I will continue to look for him while you nap." Anakin looked like he was going to protest, despite the fact that his eyes had already unfocused and slid halfway shut again. Time to pull out the trump card. "You're exhausted. You're going to miss things. We are trying to keep Padmé alive, so we can't afford to miss anything. That means," I gave his shoulders another shove, "You are going to sleep until I can be sure that you're not overlooking anything."

Anakin blinked down at me for a minute. I scowled and kept pushing at him.

"I'll dream," he finally said.

"Yeah, well, you can get at least a few hours in before you dream anything," I said. "That's better than nothing. Now get on that sofa and go to sleep!"

For one long moment, Anakin just kept staring. I intensified both my scowl and my pushing. Finally, Anakin let himself collapse on the sofa. Barely a second after his head hit the sofa cushion, his eyes slid shut and his breathing slowed.

"Thank the stars," I muttered, grabbing my cane and heading back to the kitchen table.

Without the distraction of Anakin's constant attempts to stay awake, my research went much quicker. I finished looking through the entries on the first datapad in my box and moved onto the second datapad. I quickly pulled up the first entry on the second datapad and entered in my search keywords—'Plagueis', 'Wise', 'Tragedy', 'Midi-chlorian', 'Life', 'Death', 'Living', 'Dying', 'Heal', and 'Die'. Over 200 results popped up in the first entry alone.

Sighing, I once again began to flick through each of the results. The name 'Plagueis', unfortunately, had not turned up at all yet and none of the other paragraphs containing a keyword seemed particularly helpful either.

They were definitely weird, though. In fact, all of the entries I had looked through so far had been weird. It was the only thing that all of them seemed to have in common.

I wasn't quite sure how Anakin had narrowed down his search or how he had decided what entries might be useful. I was, however, growing more and more certain that his method had not been a good one and had been influenced more by exhausted desperation than by any sort of logic.

Some of the entries had been published before the formation of the Republic and had been written in an old and hard to understand form of Aurebesh. Others had been published within the last five years. Some of them focused on midi-chlorians, others on modern healing methods both with and without the Force, and a somewhat alarming number of entries discussed things like 'basking in the screams of the dying' and 'stealing the Life Force of the worthless to shore up those on whom the galaxy depends'.

Those entries were more than a little disconcerting and, unlike some of the healing entries I had searched through, I looked at each paragraph only long enough to ascertain that it wasn't what we were looking for before quickly moving on.

I was about halfway through a datachip made up almost entirely of those sorts of entries when Anakin bolted upright on the sofa, gasping for breath.

For a long moment, Anakin remained perfectly still except for his heaving shoulders.

When, after what felt like a lifetime, he continued to show no sign of moving or saying anything, I hesitantly asked, "You okay?"

Anakin's head jerked around, his eyes wide as they met mine. "I—yeah." Anakin's breathing slowed as he carefully climbed off the sofa and walked back towards the kitchen table. "Just a dream," Anakin said, his voice disconcerting blank.

We both knew it wasn't 'just' a dream.

"Do you—do you want to talk about it?" I asked carefully.

Anakin's mouth tightened as he gave one sharp shake of his head.

As he sat down across from me, I glanced at the clock. Anakin had only managed to sleep for a little over an hour. He still had bags under his eyes but his mouth was set and I sincerely doubted I could convince him to go back to sleep, even though he clearly needed to sleep for at least another week. And an hour was better than nothing, I supposed.

"Have you found anything?" Anakin asked, picking up his datapad again.

I shook my head. "No. Not a thing. And, uh, do you think your friend might have a better idea of where to look? Because this is—I mean, I appreciate how, um…" I tried to find a good, non-insulting word for Anakin's weird method of entry selection, "— _comprehensive_ you were when picking entries for us to look through, but I kind of feel like a lot of these aren't really helpful? I mean, some of them talk about," I glanced down at the entry I was currently reading and then quoted, " 'removing the essence of the unworthy through unending agony uninterrupted by the hope of the mercy of death'. Which doesn't really seem like it will help us with Padmé? So, uh, if your friend could maybe at least help us narrow it down by giving us an idea of what sort of entries this Plagueis fellow might be found in, that would be really great."

Anakin just stared at me.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes with difficulty. "Look, Anakin," I tried again, "Three boxes of datachips chock full of entries from the Jedi Archives? Kind of a lot to go through. If you could talk to your friend and get more information about—"

"No," Anakin scowled. "We don't need any more information from him. And all of these entries could contain information about Plagueis so we have to look through all of them. There is a reason I picked these entries, Sabé. You have to trust me."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Anakin," I hurried to reassure him. "It's just that—well, maybe you were a little, um, overzealous in your research? I just—I'm not convinced all these entries actually are useful? Especially the ones that say things like—" I glanced back at my datapad and picked out another terrifying line to quote at him, " 'Pulling their entrails out through their mouths is the most effective way to heal these fools of their delusions'? Because I really don't think yanking Padmé's entrails through her mouth is going to help her or the babies much."

Anakin's scowl darkened. "Just keep looking, Sabé," he said through gritted teeth.

I opened my mouth to continue making my point about how ridiculous some of the entries were and how we should maybe change our search parameters to exclude all the creepy entries, but Anakin very pointedly lifted his datapad up so that it blocked his face.

"Seriously?" I demanded.

Anakin didn't say anything, further highlighting his complete immaturity. Likely brought on by intense worry and a severe lack of sleep. He wasn't usually this stupidly, stubbornly childish.

And it probably wouldn't hurt to humor him and keep looking through all the entries. Even though it was looking more and more likely that this was just another dead end, possibly brought on by Anakin completely misunderstanding something his friend had told him. But, at this point, keeping Anakin calm and sane was starting to seem just as important as keeping Padmé alive. I just wished humoring him could be a little less frustratingly time-consuming.

"Right," I muttered, unable to completely suppress my annoyance at continuing this wild bantha chase, "Back to reading more about torture as a healing method. Goody."

Anakin didn't say anything so I turned back to my datapad and kept scrolling though the keywords, reading increasingly disturbing things as I went.

Two datachips later, my skimming was halted abruptly by one word. One awful, terrible word that knocked everything into perspective.

"Anakin," I said slowly, praying to whatever gods were listening that I was wrong. That this wasn't what I thought it was. "This Plagueis guy—you said he was Force sensitive. Was he—?" I looked away from word glaring up at me to look at Anakin. "He wasn't a Jedi, was he?"

Anakin said nothing, instead staring at me with wide eyes and poorly hidden desperation.

My heart sank into my stomach, which started to churn. "He was a Sith. Wasn't he." It wasn't a question. That was the word on my datapad. 'Sith'. And it explained why so much of what I was reading was horrifying. "He was someone who used the dark side. One of the bad guys. One of the people who nearly destroyed the entire galaxy before the Jedi defeated them."

Anakin continued to say nothing, even as his eyes narrowed and his jaw started to work.

But I kept going, because that sick feeling was worsening and if I stayed quiet, I might throw up. I had to be wrong. This couldn't mean what I was starting to think it meant. It couldn't, it couldn't, it _couldn't_.

"Lots of these entries were written by Sith, weren't they? Or dark side users? Which is why they're all about torture, and murder and, and, and ritualized sacrifice of the unworthy and—oh _stars_ , Anakin."

This couldn't be happening. I had to be misunderstanding something. I had to be. But Anakin just kept staring at me. And he didn't look ashamed or confused. He looked angry.

"Anakin," I said, trying very hard to stay calm, "Tell me you weren't seriously considering using some Sith, torture-sacrifice-ritual thing to save Padmé. I don't know a whole ton about the Force, but even I know that using the dark side is a bad idea. Tell me that you weren't going to; that we were just looking at these to—to—to make sure that, that—" Another terrible thought hit me. "Which friend told you about this? Did a friend even tell you about this or did you hear about this in a, like a, I don't know, some kind of 'What not to do with Force Powers' ethics class or something? Are you—"

"A friend told me about this," Anakin bit off, his eyes flashing. "A good friend. A _trustworthy_ friend."

"Who? What kind of friend would tell you about this? Who would suggest that you—you—research the dark side to save Padmé?" I demanded.

Anakin surged to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor. "Someone who actually wants to help!" he exploded. "Someone who understands doing what has to be done! I thought you would understand! This is for _Padmé_ , Sabé! We can't let her die! We can't—" Anakin growled, yanked his hair with both hands and whirled away from me, striding into the living room section of the room.

"Anakin," I struggled to keep my voice even.

This wasn't Anakin talking—this couldn't be Anakin talking. This was his sleep deprivation and his worry and— _it wasn't Anakin_.

"Anakin, I know it's Padmé. I _know._ "

Anakin stayed where he was, his back to me and his head buried in his hands. I stood up and made my way over to him, trying to ignore the way my heart was pounding and how I felt like I might jitter right out of my skin.

"But this stuff—some of this stuff is really disturbing. And I know—I know how frightening the idea of losing her is. I do; I really do. She's my best friend." Up close, it was clear that Anakin was shaking all over. Carefully and trying to ignore how unsteady my own hand was, I placed it on his shoulder. He tensed but didn't shake me off. "But, Anakin, you know this isn't—this isn't the way to save her. She wouldn't want this. There are—there are other ways. Other things we can try."

Anakin's laugh was a dry, dead thing. "Like what? What else is there to try?"

"Well—" Think, Sabé! Think! "We could—" There had to be something. I had to be able to come up with _something._ "That is—" There was nothing. I couldn't think of single thing that we could try. I swore under my breath.

Slowly, Anakin turned to face me, his eyes burning in his face. "This is all there is, Sabé. Don't you see? This is the only option we have left. And I won't turn to the dark side. But if we could just find what Plagueis _did_ , I could change it, figure out how to use it to save Padmé without using the dark side. I _could,_ Sabé. I'm—I'm one of the strongest Jedi in the history of the order!" Anakin spoke with frantic fervency, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than me.

My hand dropped back to my side as Anakin continued to talk, advancing towards me as I stumbled away from him.

What was he saying? What was he—?

"The Chancellor said I couldn't learn how to stop people from dying from a Jedi." Anakin's eyes were too bright against the dark circles under his eyes, and his movements too sharp for someone who had been falling asleep where he sat not even three hours ago. "But he doesn't know how vast the Archives are—he doesn't know how much information we have on the Sith! If we can just find out how Plagueis did it, I can save Padmé. I'll be strong enough—I know I will be!"

"That's not the—" My back hit the kitchen table. "Anakin," my voice was shaking and I couldn't make it stop. " _Anakin_. These entries are talking about torture. And murder! And don't you think that if there was a way to—to modify Plagueis' method of saving people that the Jedi would have already done it? This isn't a good idea! Padmé would be horrified if she knew you were doing this!"

"She's going to die!" Anakin roared, looming over me, his eyes burning in his face. For the first time, I realized just how much bigger than me he was. He was taller, broader, stronger, and had the Force.

This wasn't Anakin.

This couldn't be Anakin.

"Anakin," I struggled to stay calm, even as I slowly reached behind me, searching the table for something, anything, that could possibly be used as a weapon. "Anakin, you're scaring me. Please—please step back."

"If you're not going to help me," Anakin snarled, his face twisted horribly as he leaned even closer, "I'll just do it on my own."

My hand grasped one of my vases just as Anakin spun around and stormed towards the door. I whirled around to track his progress, my vase firmly in hand.

Anakin slammed his hand into the doorpad and gestured sharply with his other hand.

The boxes, datapads, and datachips rose from the table and hurtled towards Anakin. Yelping, I dove out of their way, crashing to the floor and only barely managing to avoid being hit by the flying boxes as I distantly heard the vase shatter against the floor.

Sharp, searing pain raced up and down my leg as I lay on the tile, my heart pounding furiously in my chest. By the time the pain settled back into something manageable, Anakin was long gone.

Careful to avoid the shards of glass surrounding me, I rolled over and stared blankly at the ceiling.

Anakin had lost it. Completely and totally lost it. Gone around the bend. Lost all of his marbles, was more than several eggs short of a dozen, definitely was not playing with a full sabaac deck, and had brought no sandwiches to the picnic. He had, quite clearly, completely taken leave of his senses. Whether it was because of severe stress and anxiety, dangerous levels of exhaustion, or maybe some well-hidden trauma caused by being on the front lines of a war for so long or possibly all of the above, I didn't know. I wasn't even really sure I cared, anymore.

All I knew was that I was completely out of my depth.

Groaning, I rolled over, forced myself to my feet and staggered towards my comm link.

It was time to demand help. Lots and lots and _lots_ of help.

 **Expected Update Time: Oct 23th (or Nov 13th, because holy wow I have gotten slower-I did not know that it was possible to get slower, but look, I've done it!)**


	9. Help

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 8: Help

As soon as I reached the comm link, I commed Obi-Wan. He didn't pick up, as expected, so I left him a message.

"Oh stars, um, hi, this is Sabé. I just, _stars—_ what is he—right, no, from the beginning. Okay. Obi-Wan. It's Sabé. Hello. Hope you're doing well. Not doing so well here. I mean, I'm okay; we're okay; physically, we're all fine. Well, okay, my bad leg is kind of extra bad right now and my hands are a little torn up from the fall and I think I have, like, glass shards in my hair, but, you know, apart from that we're fine. Physically. Mentally, uh, mentally we are less so. Fine, that is.

"Anakin—Do you have—I mean, have you noticed him being, uh, not fine—mentally at all? Like, recently? I mean, apart from the lack of sleep and the worry about Padmé and—okay, bad question, he has been mentally not fine for a while. But he is now worse off than he was and, uh, you need to come home. Now. That is the gist of this comm call. You need to come home now, because Anakin is not right.

"I don't know if he is not right because of the lack of sleep, or the worry, or something else, but he is not right. And I just spent most of the afternoon accidentally helping him research a Sith? Some guy named Plagueis? Who, um, could apparently stop people from dying and also create life? Have you heard of him? I've—I've never heard of him, but Anakin says he heard of him from a friend who he refused to na—Stars. _Stars_! He said the _Chancellor_ said that the Jedi couldn't—I think—Did _Palpatine_ —? Okay, wait, no. Not the point. Right. Sorry Obi-Wan, it's been—this afternoon has been—it's been a not good afternoon.

"Anakin was—he scared me, Obi-Wan. I don't think he meant to scare me? And I'm pretty sure him sending those boxes at my head was an accident but—He's researching the dark side and some of the stuff we were reading was—I didn't know you could do that to people? I think I would be a lot happier if I still didn't know you could that to people?

"But, the point is that Anakin is researching really scary things to try and save Padmé, and he's not sleeping and you need to come home. Now. Like, as soon as you get this message, now. I know you are, uh, you are trying to defend the Republic and end a war but I can't do this alone and—oh.

"You are trying to defend the Republic and end a war. You—you can't come home. _Stars_. Never mind that then. Just forget everything I said and, um, why don't you—why don't you just try comming him instead? Maybe you can talk some sense into him? I'm—going to comm other people. Ones who are on planet. And who are probably not actively engaged in battle right this very moment. And then we will—we will—do something. I don't know what yet but we will definitely, definitely do something. Right. Okay. Good chat. Bye Obi-Wan."

Immediately after disconnecting Obi-Wan, I commed Padmé. The first time I commed, no one answered. Letting out a small strangled yell, I disconnected and tried again.

"Come on, come on, come on…" I muttered. Padmé had to be there. She had to. No one else knew the whole situation. I didn't know who else to comm. She had to answer.

Just when I was about to give up and start trying to figure out what in the stars I should do next, the link connected.

"This isn't really the best—" Padmé began.

"Padmé!" Thank the stars! "Padmé, it's Sabé! You need to come over here right now!"

"Time—pardon?" Padmé said.

I huffed. What did she mean 'pardon'? I had been very clear!

"You need to come over to my apartment, Padmé! Come over now! Terrible decisions are being made and you need to get here before something happens that we can't fix, okay? Because we have already reached the point where I am pretty sure I can no longer fix things on my own and I am calling in help and you are my only fully informed helper on planet, Padmé, and I do not think I can handle getting help from the uninformed right now—I am barely handling getting help from the informed; please get over here now, Padmé. I don't know what to do and—"

"I'm coming. I'm coming, Sabé. It will likely take me ten or fifteen minutes to get to you," Padmé said. "Are you going to be alright?"

I collapsed into a kitchen chair. Padmé was coming. I didn't have to do this alone.

"No, that's fine. Just—thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank—alone! I need you to come alone, too! It's private; we don't want anyone else to—just alone, please?"

"Yes, of course. Of course, Sabé. I'll be there soon. I promise."

"Oh, good. Okay. See you soon. Bye, Padmé."

With that, I disconnected.

In retrospect, it was pretty obvious that I shouldn't have commed anyone until I'd calmed down a little.

Unfortunately, I didn't come to that realization until after my door chimed for the third time that day, and Padmé flew inside without waiting for me to answer, her eyes enormous in her face and the handbag she used when she wanted to carry a blaster slung over her arm.

"Are you okay?" she demanded, skidding to a stop in front of me, her eyes darting frantically around the apartment, and her face tight. "What happened? Did someone break in and attack you? Are you hurt? Have you commed emergency services yet?"

"I—okay, um." My cheeks heated up. "I may have—I probably should have waited a little bit, before getting in contact with you. I'm fine? Mainly? I mean, I cut my hands a bit and—"

Before I could say anything else, Padmé snatched my hands, examined them, made a small noise in the back of her throat, and then whisked away, heading further into my apartment.

"Have you contacted emergency services?" Padmé asked again, her voice echoing down the hall.

My cheeks got even hotter. "It's not necessary. No one broke in and the whole flying boxes, smashed vase thing was an accident, I'm pretty sure."

"'Pretty sure'?" Padmé asked skeptically as she strode back into sight, my first aid kit in hand. "What do you mean 'pretty sure'? What happened?" She deposited her purse (and blaster, most likely) on the floor and placed the kit on the table before dragging a kitchen chair over to face me.

"Well—okay. The thing is—" There had to be a good way to tell her that her husband was researching the dark side, probably because lack of sleep and severe stress had turned his brain to mush.

Padmé carefully grabbed my hands and began to disinfect them. I hissed from the disinfectant, a little louder and a little more dramatically than I needed to in order to buy time.

I could not think of a single good way to break the news to her that her husband had officially won the title of Worst Decision Maker on Coruscant and, Actually, Probably the Whole Galaxy Too. And, unfortunately, there were only so many cuts that Padmé had to disinfect.

As she began to place bacta patches on my palms, she sent me a steely look.

"Sabé?" she prompted, her voice deceptively soft.

I swore and then said, "Right. Well, then. Pretty sure there is literally no good way to say this, so, here goes nothing."

And then I told her.

Padmé stopped placing bacta patches the moment I said 'Anakin'. And the longer I spoke, the more horrified she seemed.

By the time I told her that Anakin was indirectly responsible for my torn up hands and the glass still lying on the floor, she looked like she might be sick.

"I don't think he meant to hurt me," I hurried to reassure her. "I think he was just angry and not thinking things through. It wasn't purposeful, Padmé."

"Maybe not," she said slowly, "But researching the dark side was."

I grimaced. "Yes. Yes, Anakin did do that on purpose, unfortunately. I mean, he did say he wasn't planning on actually using the dark side? But—yeah, it was, um, it was definitely not one of his better ideas."

For a long moment, we just stared at each other, Padmé's eyes dark and desperate. No helpful words sprung to mind. I felt just as lost and miserable as she looked.

Finally, Padmé very quietly said, "I knew that he wasn't sleeping. I have to convince him to come to bed every night and every time I wake up, it's to find that he's already awake, no matter what the time is. And I can never convince him to try to go back to sleep. He just says that he can't see it again and that—that he can't bear to lose me. That he _won't_ lose me. And I don't—" Padmé glanced away, blinking quickly and taking a deep, shuddery breath. "What do I say to that, Sabé? I've been telling him that I trust him; that we can find a way to save me and the babies. Have I been adding pressure to him? Have I been making it worse? I don't—" Padmé let out the saddest laugh I had ever heard. "I don't want to die, Sabé. But I'm not sure I want to live if it means that the man I love tears himself to pieces. Everything else is falling apart—I can't have him fall apart too."

My heart was in my stomach and my throat was clogged. Somehow, Anakin's fear and my own desperation had overwhelmed any thoughts I might have had for how Padmé was handling this. It had to be so much worse for her than it was for us and, here we were, so focused on saving her that we hadn't even bothered to see how she was coping with the possibility of facing her own death.

"I'm so sorry, Padmé." The words seemed to stick in my throat, even as I grabbed one of her hands and held it tight, ignoring the way my own hands burned dully at the contact.

"No, don't." Padmé's smile was watery even as she carefully squeezed my hands and then turned them around so she could resume putting bacta on them. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, Sabé. None of this is your fault. I don't where we'd be, without you. I just don't know how to help him. I don't know if I can. I'm so tired and so many people need me. Anakin needs me to stay alive, and Bail needs me to convince Chancellor Palpatine to see reason. Mon needs me to be a rallying point for the Senators who want to see the Republic restored to democracy. Queen Apailana needs my advice on how to best rule Naboo when everyone is so divided. The twins need me to stay calm and healthy and—I'm tired. I'm so tired that I do not know if I can truly help anyone."

Comming Padmé had been a mistake.

"Of course you can help people," I said as reassuringly as I could, doing my best to ignore the growing pit in my stomach. "Of course you can. But it sounds as though you maybe have a bit too much on your plate, right now. So don't worry about Anakin. I'll talk to him tomorrow; knock some sense into him." How I was going to get him to be more sensible and less crazy was still a total mystery to me, but I'd cross that bridge when I came to it. "He probably just needs some time to calm down and realize how stupid he's being. Don't you worry about it. I'll deal with him. And maybe—I mean, can you direct Queen Apailana to Jamillia? Or we could have Rabé do it. From what Rabé has been saying, it sounds like Apailana is still relying on Rabé's opinion and experience quite a bit so I'm sure—"

"Apailana is truly the least of my concerns," Padmé sighed as she placed the last bacta patch. "She has a good head on her shoulders. She just needs some more confidence and a little more experience. But thank you, Sabé. I appreciate the offer. And I can help you with Anakin too. I didn't mean to—"

"No, don't be silly," I interrupted, waving her away. "Let me take another whack at handling your husband. I mean, you could maybe tell him what you told me, about feeling tired and see if you can't guilt him into sleeping more by saying you sleep better with him, or something, but otherwise I'll just talk to him tomorrow. It'll be fine, I'm sure. Hopefully it's just—just a brief lapse of judgement on his part. It's not like he hasn't had other terrible ideas about how to save you and he's always realized how awful those ideas were, eventually."

Padmé searched my face for a long moment.

I wasn't sure what she was looking for, but I stared back with as much confidence as I could fake.

Eventually, she nodded. "I'll talk to him tonight and see if I can get him to sleep more. And then you'll comm me tomorrow to let me know how your talk with him goes?"

"Of course," I said quickly.

"I have to present a petition to the Chancellor mid-morning but I should be available for the remainder of the day. Please let me know if you need me," Padmé said.

"Absolutely," I agreed, not sure if I was being honest or not. "If it doesn't work, we can come up with another plan then. But I'm sure it will. I'm sure he was just—he's desperate and tired and I'm sure he'll be thinking clearer tomorrow."

I was not sure of that at all. In fact, I rather thought he might be even less reasonable tomorrow, but Padmé did not need to hear that. She had enough to worry about. I shouldn't have commed her in the first place.

Padmé nodded slowly. "Of course. I'm sure you're right. Are you going to be okay here, if I leave? I cancelled the remainder of my meetings for the day, if you do need me but—"

She cancelled meetings for me?

"Oh stars, I'm so sorry, Padmé. You can go. Please. I didn't mean to disrupt your day. I just—I panicked. It's fine. Really." I smiled brightly, hoping that it didn't look too fake. My stomach was like a swirling black hole and my heart was sinking towards it.

"You didn't panic, Sabé," Padmé told me, slowly pushing herself to her feet. "Anakin was clearly not himself and could very well be on the edge of doing something unthinkable. I'm glad you told me. Comming me was the right thing to do."

It wasn't.

Seemingly (hopefully) oblivious to my growing regret, Padmé continued, her voice growing stronger, "I'll try to talk to him a little tonight and you can talk to him tomorrow. We'll re-group and debrief once you've finished speaking with him." She nodded decisively, her shoulders straightening and eyes clearing.

Then, she glanced down at her handbag on the floor and visibly deflated.

"Could you—?" She blushed.

Her stomach was too big for her to easily bend.

I smiled, grabbed her handbag, and offered it to her. "Don't forget to look after yourself too, Padmé," I said as gently as I could. "You don't have to save the whole galaxy, you know. And let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"I will," Padmé said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." She stepped confidently over the glass on the floor, waved, and then let herself out of the door.

I stared at the door for a long while, feeling heavier than I had before I'd spoken to her.

Then, taking a big, steadying breath, I stood up and carefully made my way to the hall closet.

The glass on the floor, at least, could easily be dealt with.

 **Expected Update Time: Before December 4th hopefully; definitely before December 18th**


	10. Crux

**A/N: Hey guys! Two things today. :) First, I want to take a moment to thank all of you people who review anonymously! I don't answer anonymous reviews in chapter for a variety of reasons, even those with non-rhetorical questions, but I do want to let you all know that I definitely read/consider what you say and very much appreciate your feedback. So thank you! Second, um. Stick with me, guys? There's a lot more I want to say with that, but can't so, just, um. Here's the chapter.  
**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 9: Crux

Anakin was not so easily dealt with, unfortunately. I spent the rest of the night and most of the work day trying to figure out what I was going to say to him, and how I was going to convince him to, one, not research the dark side, two, stop panicking Padmé and, three, sleep.

By the time I entered the airtaxi and directed it towards the Jedi Temple, I was no closer to a solution than I had been the night before. The message Padmé had left me had not been very comforting either.

Apparently, Anakin had still been furious with me last night and Padmé had not been able to convince him to so much as try to sleep. Instead, he had spent the whole night reviewing datapads. Padmé had apparently tried to gently broach the subject with him, only to be thoroughly and abruptly rebuffed. She did not tell him that I had told her what he was researching, as she had thought that would only make him angrier at me. She apologized and then finished the message by saying she hoped I had better luck than she'd had.

She did not sound particularly hopeful.

I didn't feel particular hopeful either, but, still, I had to try.

The airtaxi dropped me off at the base of the Jedi Temple and sped off, leaving me alone with my cane, my purse, and a truly absurd number of stairs to climb. Between now and the last (and also first) time I had visited the Temple, I had managed to forget how unwelcoming and poorly designed the stupid thing was.

But there was nothing for it now but to start climbing. My work day had lasted longer than expected, as one of my very last patients had to be admitted to the medcenter. She had wanted me to stay with her until her husband arrived, which I had, of course, but now it was well into the evening hours. If I wanted to see Anakin before he left for Padmé's, which I did, I had to do it now.

Which meant I had to conquer the never ending staircases.

By the time I climbed the last step and reached the imposing pillars that served as the most ridiculous entrance in the galaxy, I was out of breath, my left leg was throbbing fiercely, and I was starting to wish I'd taken the time to go back to my apartment and pull the accursed hoverchair out of storage. Those stairs were almost enough to kill a person.

After a brief rest where I caught my breath and let the pain in my leg fade to a dull ache, I squared my shoulders and began to make my way past the pillars and through the archways as quickly as I could. Even knowing what to expect from the Jedi Temple, the entrance was still enormously unwelcoming and I could not wait to reach the inside entrance.

After what felt like several lifetimes, I finally reached the stairs leading down into the Temple.

I took a moment to glower at the staircase in front of me. Not only were the Jedi using pillars to try to scare people away, they also must have been trying to exhaust people into leaving. That was the only explanation I could come up with for how many stupid stairs had to be navigated in order to reach the Temple proper.

With one last bitter thought towards the architect of this place, I slowly descended the stairs, trying to suppress a wince every time I had to place weight on my left leg.

Finally, I made it inside the Temple. Unlike the first (and last) time I had visited, the room I had entered into was entirely empty.

I glanced around, hoping to see someone—anyone—walking towards me.

No one was.

Now what?

The location of Anakin's quarters was a complete mystery to me. Comming him would likely end in him telling me to leave, and Obi-Wan, the only other Jedi I knew, was also out of reach. Wandering around the Temple itself while hoping to run into someone seemed like an exceedingly stupid idea that would only end up with me lost and my leg hurting worse than it already was.

Someone really needed to redesign the Jedi Temple and include some sort of welcome desk or informational kiosk at the entrance or something.

Just when I was about to start praying to any listening gods and search the Temple for Anakin anyway, a tall human man with a furrowed brow strode towards me.

Relief coursed through me. Thank the stars! Someone I could ask for directions.

Re-adjusting my grip on my cane, I limped over to him, meeting him halfway.

"Who are you and what is your business in the Jedi Temple?" the man demanded before I could say anything.

I blinked, taken aback. The Jedi hadn't been overly welcoming the last time I'd been here, but I didn't remember them being quite this unfriendly either.

"I'm Sabé Reccen," I answered slowly. "I'm here to visit Anakin Skywalker, only I'm not sure where he is, exactly. Do you know where I might find him?"

"Who gave you permission to be here?" The man's face darkened as he scowled at me.

I bristled. What was going on with this man? Why was he being so rude?

"Who are you?" I asked instead, ignoring his question, like he had ignored mine.

His scowl deepened. "Jedi Master Cin Drallig, head of the Temple Guard. I ask you again: Who gave you permission to be here?"

The Temple Guard? Inwardly I swore. Now that he said it, it made sense that, with the war going on, the Jedi were being a little more cautious with who they allowed to visit.

"Oh. Right." I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I wasn't—Well, Anakin gave me permission, I suppose." He totally had not given me permission to visit him today. This was going to end horribly. Could Jedi sense lies? I could never remember. "We're friends," I continued more truthfully, "and I know he's been struggling lately so I thought I'd drop by and see if there was anything I could do to help. I guess I didn't quite think my visit through, all the way. Do you suppose I could see him anyway? It's only I just did all of those stairs and…" I trailed off, smiling hopefully at Master Drallig, whose glare became a little less intense.

Maybe this would go better than I'd thought?

"I'm afraid that's not quite how it works, Miss Reccen," Master Drallig said, crushing my budding optimism. "You need to either have a specific invitation or be on the list of Council approved visitors."

My heart sank even further. "Is that new?"

Master Drallig's scowl disappeared and his lips quirked upwards. "Not unless you consider procedure devised nearly a thousand years ago 'new'."

Oh. Oops. Not new then. But if it wasn't new—

"I have visited Anakin before," I said, even as I tried to stop my cheeks from warming, "A few years ago. Could I maybe be on the list of approved visitors or—?"

I stopped talking, just in time to avoid asking if my last visit had actually been a security breach. The head of the Jedi Guard would probably not appreciate that question. Besides, last time, I had received directions to Anakin from Master Fisto and Master Windu, who was a member of the Council. Maybe that had counted as an invitation?

"It's more likely that Knight Skywalker placed an invitation request in the system for you." Master Drallig gave me a pitying smile.

Anakin had definitely not invited me, last time; that much I knew for sure.

Still, to stay on Master Drallig's good side, I sighed and said, "Oh. Perhaps. I don't suppose you'd mind checking the list anyway? I know it's unlikely, but if there's any chance at all…." I trailed off and gave him my most hopeful look, even though I sort of wanted to cry.

If I had just done all of those stairs for _nothing_ ….

Master Drallig's smile faded but, after a moment, he nodded, pulling a datapad from one of his deep cloak pockets. "Of course. May I see some identification?"

I showed him.

Master Drallig fiddled with the datapad for a moment.

I waited, my heart sinking lower and lower the longer I stood there.

There wasn't a chance in the galaxy I was on that list, which meant I wouldn't be able to see Anakin, which meant I couldn't help calm him down and—

"Well." Master Drallig looked up from his datapad with a faintly surprised look on his face. "It would appear Master Kenobi approved you for all Temple visits several months ago."

My mouth nearly fell open. Obi-Wan had what?

"I am very glad you had me check, Miss Reccen," Master Drallig continued, seemingly oblivious to my shock. "Would you like me to see if Knight Skywalker has checked into any particular room in the Temple for you? Not all rooms in the Temple require the Jedi to sign into them, of course, but a fair few of the practice rooms do require a check in, so it might be worth the effort. If he hasn't, I would, of course, be happy to give you directions to his quarters."

"I—if you wouldn't mind, I would greatly appreciate that; thank you."

I waited in a bit of a daze as Master Drallig checked to see if he could find Anakin anywhere.

Obi-Wan had added me to the list of approved visitors to the Jedi Temple. Why had he done that?

Before the strangeness of the situation could sink in, Master Drallig spoke up.

"It would appear that Knight Skywalker is in the Council Chambers." Master Drallig frowned faintly. "He is alone, and he has not placed a restriction on additional access to the Chambers, so—yes. I believe I will give you directions."

After getting directions and thanking Master Drallig for his help, I made my way through the Temple towards Anakin. The Council Chambers (and I had to wonder—was this the _High Council Chambers_? Was I truly about to enter the place the _Jedi Council_ met to discuss the fate of the galaxy?) was located in the second highest spire of the Temple.

Luckily, there were elevators.

Still, it took quite a bit of time and by the time I reached the doors to the Council Chambers, the sun was setting.

Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and tried to get into the right frame of mind for the upcoming conversation. Anakin was still Anakin, I reminded myself. For all that he had frightened me the last time we spoke, he was still one of my very best friends. He was a good person.

He'd see reason. He would.

I just had to lay everything out for him and convince him that there were, in fact, other ways to handle the situation. We could save Padmé without researching Sith Lords. We could, we could, we could.

All I had to do was convince Anakin of that.

Nodding sharply to myself, I stepped forward, and slapped the doorpad.

The doors slid open.

I gasped, immediately taking back every cruel thought I'd ever had about the architects of the Jedi Temple. Maybe they weren't the greatest at making entrances but this—this room was worth a thousand terrible entrances.

The circular room was dominated by enormous windows that opened the entire room to the city below. Coruscant was spread out below me, beautiful in the dying light. I hadn't felt so small since I'd last sat on the railing in the waterfall garden of the Naboo Royal Palace.

My focus entirely on the magnificent drop before me, I glided into the room.

"Sabé?"

I jumped, jerking my gaze away from the drop and towards the voice.

Anakin stood before me, his back to the window and his eyes wet.

Any calm I had gained from the magnificent view disappeared immediately.

"Anakin, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" I hurried over to him.

"What are you doing here? Why—?" Anakin sounded so lost, his voice small and bewildered. A tear escaped his wet eyes, and slowly slid down his cheek. He looked so exhausted and so young.

My heart broke a little.

"Oh, Anakin." I reached around him to lean my cane against the window, before pulling him down into a hug.

For a moment, he did nothing. Then, it was as if he crumpled. He buried his head against my neck, and his shoulders shook.

"I can't do this—I can't, Sabé. I can't lose her; I just can't." Anakin's voice cracked as the shoulder of my dress grew damp.

"I know, Anakin. I know." Feeling helpless, I rubbed circles into his back as soothingly as I could while he continued to shake apart.

"No, you don't." Anakin's voice was muffled by my shoulder. "I thought we could—but he's my only hope—and I can't live without her and—"

Anakin shook harder as his arms tightened around me almost painfully.

"Anakin—" I began, my heart somewhere around my toes. What could I say to help him? How could I comfort him?

Before I could say anything further, Anakin shook his head, his curls scratching my cheek and neck.

I fell silent.

Anakin's shaking subsided and his grip loosened.

When he lifted his head from my shoulder and I stepped back to look at him, there were tear tracks on his face, but his eyes were dry and his mouth was set.

My brow furrowed. "Anakin, what's—?"

"I have to leave." Anakin carefully moved me aside, before striding past.

"What? No, Anakin, wait. I wanted to talk you! Do you have any idea how many stairs I climbed to get here today?" I snatched up my cane and hurried after him, as he reached the doors.

Anakin pressed the doorpad and then turned towards me, his eyes meeting mine steadily. "I'm sorry, Sabé."

Then, he whirled around and left the chambers.

"Anakin!"

He was not leaving without us talking! I sped after him, just clearing the doors before they shut again.

Anakin's cloak whipped behind him as he jogged towards the elevator.

"Wait, An—" My left foot hit the ground at an angle, sending sharp pain rocketing through my leg. Cursing, I reared backwards, trying to shift my weight off my thrice cursed bad leg. My right foot slipped out from under me as if in slow motion. As I crashed towards the ground, I instinctively tried to roll and catch myself, as Panaka had taught me ages ago. My complete and utter failure was marked by blinding pain, as my left leg smashed into the ground.

By the time things slid back into focus, I was lying on the floor, panting, and Anakin was gone.

 **Expected Update Time: Hopefully before Dec. 31st; Definitely before Jan 9th**


	11. Introductions

**A/N: Hey guys! I** ** **have a tiny A/N at the bottom that I can't put up here for spoiler reasons.**  
**

 _To Change the Galaxy  
_

Chapter 10: Introductions

Several long minutes passed before the excruciating pain subsided enough for me to even be able to touch the stupid leg. It was several minutes after that before I felt like I might be able to put some weight on it.

Slowly, cautiously, while letting out a stream of curses, I pushed myself off the floor.

Hissing though my teeth as my leg immediately began to scream at me, I quickly hobbled over to the nearest council chair and collapsed into it, swearing steadily and vehemently.

I should have let them cut the thrice cursed thing off. Maybe I should cut it off myself. It probably couldn't hurt any more than it already did.

Cursing under my breath, I carefully, and with a great deal more patience than I actually felt, began to massage and then exercise my leg.

By the time the pain faded back into a dull throb it was dark out, and I was bitterly regretting every life choice that had led to me being practically stranded inside the Council Chambers while one of my best friends ran off into the night to do who even knew what. Nothing good, probably.

Unless…

Using my cane, I yanked my purse across the floor and then hooked the end of the cane into the purse strap so that I could deposit it in my lap.

I rummaged through it, pulling out and setting aside my datapad, my emergency ration bar, my blaster, and my hand lotion before finally finding my comm link.

I commed Padmé, who picked up immediately.

"Sabé?" she said. "How did it go? Are you still talking things out?"

My heart sank and I cursed. "You mean he's not with you? That little piece of—" I swore again.

That man was quickly becoming the bane of my very existence.

There was a pause on the other end of the link and then a sigh. "It didn't go well, then."

"I mean," I grumbled, "If by 'went well' you mean he cried on me and then ran off before I could say anything to him, then it went brilliantly. If by 'went well' you mean we had a good conversation, where he admitted the Sith idea was a terrible one, then no. No, it did not go well. I was hoping he'd run off to your apartment, but apparently not."

"No, he's not here. And if he's not with you…" Padmé trailed off into silence.

"He better not be doing anything stupid," I said.

"Sabé!" Padmé scolded.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm just saying. I am currently stuck in the Council Chambers in the Jedi Temple, with a bad leg. I think I'm entitled to be a little annoyed with him right now."

"Bad leg? What do you mean? What happened? Did it flare up again?" Padmé asked.

"Well, I had a full day at work, walked up an absurd number of steps, found my way up to the very top of one of the highest spires in the Jedi Temple, and then attempted to chase after that moron of yours only to fall over and land directly on my bad leg. So, I mean, yeah. It flared up again," I huffed, leaning further into the surprisingly uncomfortable Jedi master chair and glaring out the window.

"Oh Sabé," Padmé sighed. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean—"

I rolled my eyes again. "Not _your_ fault, Padmé. I'm just—"

"Sabé," Padmé interrupted, sounding alarmed. "Is everything okay in the Temple?"

I frowned at the comm link. "Um, yeah? Everything's fine here, as far as I can tell. Why?"

"It's just—Sabé, it looks like there are flames coming out of the Jedi Temple!"

"What?" I glanced around the Council Chambers wildly.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The chambers were dark and quiet, and, outside the Council Chambers' walls, Coruscant seemed to be moving at its usual pace, speeders flying by in the distance.

I said, "Everything's fine here, Padmé. Maybe you're seeing a nearby building on fire or something."

"I don't—are you absolutely positive there are no fires?" Padmé asked again.

"Well, I mean, there's no alarms going off or anything? And I don't—" I sniffed the air, "I don't smell smoke, so…are you sure it's the Temple on fire?"

"No, I'm not sure," she answered. "But it certainly looks as though it is."

"That doesn't make sense, though. Why would the Temple be on fire? I mean, I'm pretty sure Jedi cooks don't have kitchen fires," I joked.

"Of course." Padmé's laugh sounded forced. "You're right, Sabé. It's probably the stress of everything making me think it's the Temple. It's quite a ways from my apartment so my eyes might be playing tricks on me."

Her words rang false though. It sounded like Padmé was trying to convince herself that what she was saying was true.

My stomach clenched. I carefully put pressure on my foot, testing to see if my leg would flare up.

When it didn't, I held my cane tightly and stood.

The pain stayed manageable.

"That's probably it. But I'll check outside, just to be sure," I told Padmé as I headed towards the window facing away from the elevator. "The Council Chambers are pretty high up, after all. There's always the possibility that I can't—"

Behind me, there was the quiet hiss of a door opening.

The distinctive sound of lightsabers igniting filled the room even as I spun around as quickly as my leg would allow me too.

"Who are you?" a tiny blond boy holding an equally tiny lightsaber demanded.

I blinked rapidly, staring, flabbergasted, at the small crowd of children standing in the doorway to the Council Chambers. Four of them were pointing small lightsabers in my direction, looking more determined than any child should, and three more seemed terrified, huddling behind the children in the front.

"Sabé? What's going on?" Padmé's voice on the comm link rang through the room.

"I'm not entirely sure," I told her absently, even as I slowly turned the rest of the way around, making sure all the children got a good look at my cane. Most people seemed to believe I was both harmless and helpless, once they caught sight of it. Ordinarily, that was one of the most infuriating things in the galaxy, but if it could be used to help set these children more at ease…

"Hello," I said, with a friendly smile. "My name is Sabé Reccen. I hope I'm not intruding. I just needed to take a minute to rest my leg before leaving. I just finished visiting with my friend, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker."

For a second, it was as though I had said the magic words. All of the children seemed to relax, tension bleeding from their shoulders as their faces cleared. However, before I could take so much as one step closer to them, the blond boy's saber shot back up and his scowl returned, fiercer than before.

"How do _you_ know Master Skywalker?" At the boy's question, the other three children with lightsabers immediately raised them again.

What in the stars was going on here? Were Jedi taught to be unwelcoming since birth? And were all Jedi children entrusted with deadly weapons? Because neither of those seemed like good childrearing strategies.

"I used to be a handmaiden of Naboo," I said. "I met Anakin and became friends with him while in the service of Padmé Amidala. That's actually who I'm talking to right now." I carefully and slowly waved the still connected comm link in their direction.

The blond boy exchanged looks with the two girls standing to his right and the tall boy standing to his left. When they finished their silent conversation, all of them seemed to be aiming their lightsabers in my direction even more pointedly than before.

"Prove it," the blond girl said suspiciously.

"Padmé?" I prompted, wondering how in the stars this was my life. How did I reach the point where I had to convince tiny, and potentially deadly, Jedi children that I was who I said I was? What had happened to the galaxy that this was actually a thing that was occurring?

"Can you hear me through the link?" Padmé asked, her voice raised slightly, but otherwise calm. She gave no indication as to whether she thought this was as bizarre as I did. Then again, she also couldn't see exactly what was happening, so maybe she was truly unaware of just how weird this was.

"Yes," the blond boy said, his saber wavering slightly before he brought up his other hand to help hold it steady.

Why were they all so convinced I was a threat?

"I am Padmé Amidala," Padmé continued. "I'm the Senator for the Chommel Sector. I'm also a former Queen of Naboo. Sabé is one of my very dearest friends, and both of us know Anakin well. Is there anything I can say to help convince you of this? I know you can't see me, but—"

One of the girls without an ignited lightsaber leaned forward and whispered—or attempted to whisper—to the blond girl, "I think that's her—I recognize her voice from the broadcasts."

The blond girl leaned back and more successfully whispered something back.

The other girl then 'whispered', "Ask her what petition she presented to the Chancellor today. It's not public knowledge yet—I only know because I sliced into—never mind." The girl blushed. "Just ask her that."

The blond girl cleared her throat and then said, loudly, "If you're _really_ Senator Amidala, then tell us what petition you presented to the Chancellor today!"

There was a moment of silence.

Then Padmé slowly said, "Several of my colleagues and I presented the Petition of 2000 to the Chancellor today, asking him to relinquish his emergency powers. How did you know that I-?"

"Never mind how we knew!" The blond girl interrupted before quickly leaning back and whispering something to the other girl.

"It's her! It's really her!" the other girl whisper-shouted back, no longer looking scared, but instead seeming thrilled.

"And we can trust the woman here?" the blond girl asked Padmé.

"You can trust Sabé with your life," Padmé answered calmly, confidently. "I have, many times, and she has yet to let me down."

"Senator Amidala, Miss Reccen, do you know where Master Skywalker is?" The blond boy's lightsaber snapped off as he stepped fully into the room.

The other three children with lightsabers followed his lead, and the three children standing behind them hurried after.

"No, I'm afraid we don't," I said, smiling sympathetically in an attempt to hide how annoyed that fact actually made me. After all, it wasn't their fault that Anakin was an idiot. "And you can just call me Sabé. No need for formality with me. What should I call all of you?"

"I'm Sors," the blond boy said. "And this," he gestured to the short-haired girl standing next to him, the one who had ignited her blade but hadn't said anything, "is Lelila."

She nodded at me solemnly and I nodded back her, trying to match her gravitas and feeling a bit like I hadn't managed it.

"I'm Jewsi," the blond girl said.

"Tobe," the tall boy who had been holding the fourth lightsaber introduced himself. "And this is Adan."

The tiniest person present, a boy with dark hair and big eyes, gave me a small wave.

"My name is Shia," the girl who couldn't whisper said, her voice much softer than I had expected.

"And I'm Trinna," the final girl said, stepping closer to Jewsi as she did.

"A pleasure to meet you all," I said. "What brings you to the Council Chambers? Do you have a class here?"

"You don't know?" Tobe, the tall boy, sounded shocked.

I frowned, the pit in my stomach returning full force. "Don't know what?" I asked slowly.

The children exchanged worried glances.

"Miss Sabé," Sors finally said, "the clones have turned on us. They're attacking the Temple. We came up here because we were hoping to find Master Ti. There's too many of them. We don't know what to do."

All my thoughts fell silent. It was as if the galaxy stopped.

"I saw them. The clones. They killed Irie and Becks. Master Yonal tried to fight them off but there were so many of them," Trinna said quietly, her hands wringing. "They're supposed to be our friends. They're supposed to help us against the Separatist. Why would they—" Trinna faltered and then fell into silence, her eyes huge in her white face.

Jewsi stepped directly in front of her but said nothing, her own face pale, although her mouth was firmly set.

There was a long moment of silence.

"That doesn't make any sense. The clones wouldn't. They couldn't." Padmé's voice wavered. She sounded a long way off, as her voice kept emitting from the comm. "They're loyal to the Republic. But—the Temple and the flames... If the clones turned, that would explain why—"

My mind stayed still and quiet as Padmé's voice faded into the background.

The seven children standing in front of me huddled closer together.

They had seen death come to their friends at the hands of their supposed allies. Their home was burning. Not one of them was crying. And they all had little lightsabers clutched in their hands, although, when faced with a possible threat, only four of them had ignited their blades.

If the Temple was truly burning and the clones had really turned, the Council Chambers would most likely not remain safe for long.

"Padmé," I interrupted my friend, still looking at the seven little Jedi arrayed in front of me. "Comm Obi-Wan and Anakin. You need to tell them what's going on. The children and I are going to do a bit of planning here and then we'll meet up with you at your apartment in a little while."

Padmé was quiet for a long moment. Then she said, "Is there any way I can help?"

Padmé was pregnant with twins and Anakin had dreamed of her death.

"No, Padmé, but thank you," I said. I gave the children a smile that I hoped looked confident. "This seems like a pretty resourceful bunch. I'm sure we can handle it on our own."

A huffing, staticky noise came from the comm link. Then Padmé said, "Of course. Of course. Let me know if you think of anything I can do. I'll—I'll see all of you soon, I'm sure."

"You will," I said, smiling at the children as I prayed to whatever gods were listening that they wouldn't make a liar out of me. "Good-bye, Padmé."

There was another pause. Then: "Good-bye, Sabé."

I disconnected the link.

I wished I knew more about children. Most of my knowledge about them was regarding before they came into this galaxy and then the immediate aftermath of their arrival. The only experience I could recall having with children this age was when I had once been one and those memories were all a little fuzzy.

But no matter. Wishing solved nothing.

"Well," I smiled warmly at them as I slowly made my way to the nearest council chair and lowered myself down onto it. "I'm afraid to say that I'm not very familiar with the Jedi Temple or Jedi-in-training, so I'm going to have to ask you a few questions."

Sors and Lelila exchanged glances and then slowly began to walk towards me. The others followed their lead. As they carefully formed a half circle around me, I began to gently massage my leg. I could not afford to have it give out on me once we left this room.

"We're called initiates," Shia offered tentatively.

"Thank you, Shia. Initiates then. Your lightsabers—do they work?"

Sors and Tobe both shifted on their feet a little uncomfortably, but Jewsi just stuck her chin out and crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest.

"Of course they _work!_ " she scoffed. _"_ They're not full lightsabers, like the knights and padawans have, but getting hit with them still hurts!"

"It stings a bit, you mean," Tobe corrected. "It's nothing that lasts for a long time, Miss Sabé. They're just training sabers. I don't think—" he gulped. "I don't think a clone would back off if he got hit by one."

"They might!" Jewsi bristled.

Tobe looked very doubtful.

I elected to move on, without letting either of them know that what Tobe said sounded more accurate to me. While it was a relief to know that the Jedi didn't trust children with weapons that could kill them, it was also, in this case, kind of disappointing and anxiety-inducing. It would have been nice if the children could defend themselves a little. But there was nothing for it now. I did my best to stuff all my nerves into a box in the back of my head, where I could deal with them later.

"Well, if we do this right, you won't need to use them at all," I said as diplomatically as I could. "Thank you for sharing, both of you. Now, the next question is a very important one. Are there any hangars nearby?"

The simplest way to get out of the Temple would be to hijack a ship of some sort and just fly out. However, if the Temple was on fire, like Padmé said, and filled with clones, like the initiates said, it would be best to get out of here as soon as possible, while walking the shortest distance possible. If the nearest hangar was too far, I'd probably have to come up with a different exit plan.

"The nearest one is halfway down the tower, on level 23," Sors said.

"Excellent! Just what I wanted to hear," I beamed. A hangar located in the spire itself was definitely doable. "Did you run into any clones in the tower itself?"

Sors looked at his fellow initiates before shrugging a little uneasily. "No? But we took the elevator up so—I don't know if there are any clones in the tower."

"Okay, well, I do have a blaster and, you know," I lowered my voice to make it seem like I was sharing a secret, "I happen to be a crack shot. The other girls wouldn't admit it, but I was the best of all the Queen's handmaidens back on Naboo and the best of all of the handmaidens here on Coruscant, too."

Some tension seemed to leak out of the children's shoulders. That was good. Hopefully if they felt more comfortable with me, and trusted me more, they'd follow my lead.

"How far is it from the elevator to the hangar, would you say?" I asked.

I spent a few more minutes questioning the initiates, trying to gain both their trust and enough information to actually develop a feasible plan for leaving the Temple. However, I stuck strictly to the information I absolutely needed. The Council Chambers might be quiet now, but the longer we waited, the more likely it was that something would go wrong.

It was always possible, of course, that the initiates were wrong and there weren't 'too many of them'. But if I had lost my mind and decided to attack the Jedi, I knew that the last thing I'd want to be was under-prepared. Jedi were formidable and difficult to predict at the best of times. If I were to attack them, I would go in with double the amount of people I thought I needed. There was no guarantee, of course, that the people in charge of this insanity thought like me—actually, the fact that they were attacking the Jedi in the first place was a pretty good sign that they didn't—but it was better to be safe than sorry.

So, after getting a rough idea of what the route was going to look like and impressing upon the children the importance of staying behind me and listening to what I said at all times, I stuffed my comm link into my dress pocket and grabbed my blaster from where I had dumped it earlier.

Despite having spent the last few years as a midwife, I'd never quite managed to feel comfortable leaving home without my blaster. Silently, I thanked Panaka for scaring me into the habit back when I'd still been a royal handmaiden.

It had been a while since I'd had to use it for anything more than practice though. Luckily, my cane went in my right hand while I shot with my left, so while I'd certainly be slower than the last time I'd been in a real battle, my aim should hopefully be the same. And I hadn't been lying to the children—I had always had good aim.

"Right," I said, checking my safety and stretching my leg one last time before giving the children my best smile. "Are you ready to leave for Senator Amidala's apartment?"

The children exchanged looks.

"Yes, Miss Sabé. We're ready," Sors said, his face set.

Around him, the other children nodded.

Winging another prayer up to whatever gods were listening, I headed towards the doors. "Well, then. Let's go."

 **A/N: Story related things: I spent an absurd amount of time debating whether to say 'younglings' or 'children' in this chapter because both are used in the movies. I went with children, thinking that maybe that's used for humans while youngling is more for cross species little ones. But? If you could let me know if you think it stands out in a bad way, I'd appreciate it so I can readjust in the future! Also, Sors, Shia, and Jewsi are canon names :) Anyway, thanks for reading guys!** **Hope you all enjoy the holidays!  
**

 **Expected Update Time: Before Jan 22nd**


	12. Luck

**Minor edit 6/12/2018 for clarity  
**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 11: Luck

The Temple halls were quiet. We had reached the floor of the hangar with no difficulties and had nearly reached the hangar itself. We had yet to run into anyone at all, Jedi or clone. Still, I did not drop my guard, and the children seemed to remain alert as well. They obediently stayed behind me as I cleared corners and hallways before waving them forward to meet me. Every time I checked behind me to make sure they were still okay and still following, it was to see white faces, tense shoulders, and darting eyes.

The tap of my cane against the beautiful white marble floors was deafeningly loud, the sound seemingly magnified by the cavernous ceilings. I tried not to think of it too much. If my leg hadn't given out on me once already today, I would have wrapped the tip in fabric. As it was, I needed all the traction and support I could get. Wrapping it up to dampen the sound was not an option.

With any luck, the clones hadn't made it to this level yet, and we could make it out of the Temple without any problems. But there were seven little Jedi shadowing my steps—I would not assume anything, particularly not based on something as capricious as luck.

We approached a crossroad, the corridor continuing in front of us and also branching to both our left and right. Inwardly, I swore viciously. Crossroads were terrible to clear, especially with only one person. But maybe my luck would hold? Even if it didn't, delaying would do nothing and, according to the children, there was only one route that would take us from the Council Chambers to the hangar. Forward was the only way we could go.

With that thought, I turned around. Shia and Sors, my little navigators, immediately pointed to the left and then, after holding a brief conference consisting entirely of facial expressions, they both held up a closed fist.

I bit back a grin. Thank the stars. If my navigators were right (and, to be perfectly honesty, this wasn't a guarantee—last turn, they said we still had three turns left), the hangar was right around the corner.

Still, no reason to get cocky.

I raised my eyebrows at the children pointedly. They immediately formed a half circle against the wall, facing in all directions. All of them raised their unignited lightsabers in front of them, although only Jewsi, Sors, Lelila and Tobe held them with any illusion of confidence. Adan's lightsaber was upside down, Trinna's was visibly shaking, and Shia held hers with white-knuckled hands, like she was afraid she would drop it if she didn't cling to it as tightly as she could with both hands.

But all of them had their lightsabers up this time, which was an improvement from when we started. At least now, if someone came after them, all they would have to do was ignite their blades instead of scrambling to find them, raise them into position and then turn them on.

I leaned both myself and my cane up against the wall and then quickly reached over and flipped Adan's saber right side up before handing it back to him.

He flushed, but set his jaw and continued to scan the hallway as best he could.

Nodding my approval, I grabbed my cane, turned back around, and readjusted my hold on my blaster. Then, I crept forward, hugging the far left wall and doing my best not to wince each time my cane hit the ground.

Slowly, I approached the intersection, my blaster at the ready, as I peered to the right. The entry to the right corridor appeared to be clear. I carefully took a few steps backwards before hurrying over to the right wall and carefully stepping forward again.

To the left, white armor flashed briefly into view before disappearing again. Quickly and quietly, I stepped backwards, keeping my blaster ready even as I stepped further out of sight.

I stuffed all the curses I wanted to shout to the far back of my mind.

 _Focus, Sabé._

They hadn't seen me yet, which was several points in my favor. But how many were there? If there were only two or three and I had the benefit of surprise, I might be able to take them. But if it was more than that—

The clones were battle hardened veterans. I was a retired handmaiden from a pacifist planet with one good leg. Also, if the clones had been posted here with the expectation of fighting Jedi—

Good odds for a Jedi were bad odds for a handmaiden, and the clones would not want to present a Jedi with good odds.

Time for a new plan.

Keeping my focus and my blaster on the corridor leading to the hangar where the clones were, I carefully side-stepped back towards the children.

My heart was hammering in my chest. I could hear the blood rushing through my head. I struggled to keep my breathing calm and even.

My thoughts were racing.

There were no clones, or Jedi for that matter, in the spire, but there were clones at the hangar of the spire. Would they be at all the hangars then?

And if they were at all the hangars, then how did we get out?

I threw a glance over my shoulder—I was nearly to the children.

Sors caught my eye, his brows furrowed and his mouth tight. He cocked his head slightly to the side.

I jerked my head toward the far end of the hallway, where we had come from.

His eyes widened as he sucked in a breath.

I tried not to wince at the noise, swinging my gaze back towards the clones.

No white armor flashed into view. Slightly reassured that no one had heard, I looked back at the children.

Lelila was staring at Sors, looking annoyed, right up until he gestured back down the corridor, away from the hangar. Then, her eyes widened and she immediately turned to nudge Shia.

Assured that the message would be passed along, I looked back towards the hangar. After what felt like several life times, we reached the door to a small closet that I had cleared only minutes ago, under the mistaken assumption that it was a room. The closet was still part of the hall leading to the hangar, but it was far enough away that we could probably talk safely, as long as we were quiet.

As much as I hated to think it, the hangar still might be our best option. But before I could decide that, I needed more information.

I waved the children even further down the hall and cleared the closet again, just to be sure.

Convinced that it was empty, I beckoned the children inside and took one last peek down the corridor.

It remained empty. I glanced back behind us—the corridor branching to the right and leading past an elevator was several feet away. It also remained empty.

With a final look, I shut the door and positioned myself directly in front of it. Then, I turned to look at the seven children crammed in the closet with me.

"Is it the clones?" Sors whispered the moment I faced them.

He was half-straddling, half-standing on a deactivated mouse droid, holding tight to Lelila to remain upright.

Lelila herself was holding onto one of the shelves to stop from overbalancing and toppling into me.

This closet had not been built for eight people, even if seven of them were only half-grown.

The conversation would have to be very quick.

"Yes," I whispered back, wincing as Trinna muffled a squeak with her hands and Adan jumped, the crown of his head nailing Tobe in the chin. Tobe jerked his head back but, impressively, did not cry out, even though his eyes welled with tears.

Jewsi immediately snaked an arm around Shia and past the Lelilia-Sors mess to pat Tobe's shoulder consolingly.

I grimaced at him in apology but kept going—clearly, the sooner we left this closet, the better.

"Apart from the main entrances and the hangars, are there any other ways to leave the Temple? Any secret passages you know of or courtyards we can climb out?" I asked.

They were quiet for a long moment.

"The only ones I know about are on the main floor," Shia finally whispered, her voice too loud for comfort.

"Shh!" Jewsi hissed.

Shia flushed.

My heart sank. We were all the way up in a spire and the main floor was likely where the clones had begun their invasion. The chance of us safely reaching the main floor was roughly the same as Yané miraculously discovering the key to transatomic physics and teleporting us out of here.

"Any small hangars?" I asked a little desperately. "Ones that aren't used very often or aren't very well known?"

There was another moment of silence.

"Well," Shia spoke again, her voice now so quiet I had to strain to hear her, "There is one, maybe—it's in the West Temple, on the 12th floor. We're in the Southwest Tower so—it's not forever away, but, Miss Sabé, it hasn't been—"

A loud yelp followed by clanging metal and something warm and heavy ramming into my side interrupted Shia.

I slammed into the door, struggling to keep hold of both my blaster and my cane.

Lelila pushed hard against my shoulders, regaining her balance as a stricken Sors stared at her, still holding tight to the metal shelf as the mouse droid rolled to a stop in front of him.

That noise had been us.

We had just—they would check the closet.

They were expecting Jedi. There was no way they wouldn't—

Pushing Lelila behind me, I slammed the doorpad. It hissed open and I cleared the doorway as quickly as I safely could.

The heavy tramp of boots echoed towards us.

"The elevator! Go, go, go!" I hissed, jerking my head desperately at the children. I trained my blaster down the hall and held tight to my cane.

I heard no footsteps behind me, only in front.

" _Run!_ "

They had already heard us—now was the time for speed, not caution.

Immediately, footsteps pattered behind me, out of the closet and then fading slightly as they ran down the hall.

The moment the last set of footsteps began to fade, I turned and, abandoning any effort to silence my cane, followed the children as quickly as I could.

Shia and Lelila were in the lead. They skidded around the corner. Shia lost her balance and stumbled forward.

A blue blaster bolt skimmed the top of her head. She shrieked, even as Sors yanked her to her feet.

I whirled around, even as I kept staggering back towards the elevator. My leg throbbed fiercely with each step.

Clones spilled into the corridor, black blasters rising into position, ominous against their white armor.

Black under-armor flashed at a shoulder—I fired.

I spun around the corner to the sound of a pained shout.

Tobe and Adan were only a few steps in front of me. Tobe half-dragged the smaller boy with him, each of Tobe's strides matching two of Adan's. Adan was crying. They were way too slow. I didn't have any free hands to help speed them along.

I had to buy them time.

Cursing under my breath, I hurriedly got into position.

Each time I saw a flash of black, I shot. Each time a new scorch mark appeared on the white armor or a clone simply switched his blaster to his other arm, I cursed. I cursed up a blue streak. Only a little more than half of the clones I hit actually went down and stayed there.

To add insult to injury, clones kept pouring into the corridor.

Not approaching the hangar had definitely been a solid plan. But now I needed a new solid plan. 'Shooting from behind a corner while the little Jedi try to run away with no solid destination in mind' was a _terrible_ one.

The clones were more than halfway down the corridor. I hit another one who stumbled, and then, with some help, continued to advance. I swore. Their pain tolerance was completely unfair!

I risked a glance behind me. Sors and Lelila were standing at the next corner, shouting encouragement to Adan and Tobe, who were only a little over halfway to them.

"Help them!" I yelled before turning back around.

I had to slow the clones down. At the rate this was going, they'd clear the corner far before Adan and Tobe managed to.

I stopped aiming and just shot, sweeping back and forth as best I could while remaining covered.

Finally, the clones slowed to return fire.

I kept shooting and tried not to get shot.

The world narrowed down to myself, my blaster, and the blue bolts flying my way.

It wasn't until the clones were three-fourths of the way to me that I snapped out of it and whirled around. Adan, Tobe, and Sors would make it into the next hallway before the clones made it to ours. I started down the corridor as fast as I could.

A cane was great for a lot of things—running was not one of them.

Lelila flung a hand out, latched onto Sors' arm and tugged. Sors, Adan, and Tobe swung around the corner, Lelila stumbling backwards from the force of her own momentum.

I put on a burst of speed.

Almost there. I was almost there. Only a couple more steps. Only a couple more—

My leg screamed and I did too, lurching as the world began to fade to grey.

My shoulder hit something hard. Someone shrieked.

It couldn't end like this. It _would not_ end like this.

I blinked furiously, trying to clear the grey spots even as I shoved myself off the wall.

I staggered forward.

There was a flash of blue and the humming of a lightsaber.

Something small and warm slipped under my arm, pulling me forward.

I blinked furiously and counted each breath.

The world stayed grey at the edges, becoming more and less distinct with each agonizing step.

There were children. Seven little children.

 _Focus, Sabé!_

I blinked again, forcing myself to focus on the warm weight of my blaster, the smooth grip of my cane, Lelila's black bob swinging back and forth, her shoulder solid beneath my arm and her ignited training saber shaking.

I took up more of my weight, biting back a scream as my leg protested.

The children stood in the elevator at the end of the hall, Jewsi's arm flung across the door, holding it open.

"Thanks," I breathed.

Lelila's head jerked up, her dark eyes wide in her ashen face.

I smiled at her tightly before throwing a look over my shoulder.

A boy with a swinging beaded braid covered our retreat. His lightsaber flashed back and forth as blaster bolts scattered around him, hitting clones and walls alike.

I moved one foot in front of the other.

Numerous small hands hooked into my arms, my dress, my hip and pulled.

Lelila and I stumbled into the elevator.

I took another deep breath, gently disentangling myself from Trinna, Shia and Sors's grasp.

Then, once again, I readied my hold on my blaster. My leg throbbed fiercely. This was the worst possible time for it to give out on me but it didn't matter. I refocused on the worn wood of my blaster grip and the tight hold Lelila still had on the side of my dress, willing the pain to the back of my mind.

"Get to the corners and stay to the sides." I shuffled forward to take Jewsi's place in the doorway.

Jewsi and the other children exchanged glances then quickly did as I said.

Lelila stayed close. Her grip in my dress shifted only enough to hide her hand behind my back.

It wasn't worth arguing about. It might even help.

I started shooting. I laid down as much cover fire as I could without endangering the boy who flipped and danced in front of us.

"We're clear!" I shouted to him. "Retreat!"

The boy hurriedly stepped backwards, his lightsaber a blur.

My world once again narrowed down to my blaster.

Several heartbeats later, the elevator doors slid shut as blaster bolts slammed into them.

The boy with the braid gasped, clutching his side with the hand not holding tight to his lightsaber.

"Are you okay?" I demanded.

I started to lean towards him. The pain in my leg roared back to the forefront. I collapsed against the elevator wall, shifting all my weight to my other foot and fighting away the grey.

I was vaguely aware of the boy wheezing, "Fine—tired—hit—my arm."

"Miss Sabé?" an anxious voice asked.

I blinked furiously, turning my head towards the speaker.

It was Tobe, with tears spilling down his cheeks.

I shoved the pain away.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"Adan—He's—" Tobe took in a shaky breath as he looked down at the whimpering little boy whose dark head rested in his lap. "They hit him, Miss Sabé. In his side. What do we—what do we do?"

I stared down at them. There was no bacta. I had never treated a blaster bolt before. The pain management I had done had been in a medcenter setting, with access to immense resources. My own leg continued to pulse with pain.

I scrabbled for the bottom of my dress. Silently apologizing to Wicaté, who had gave it to me for my last birthday, I turned to Tobe.

"Cut a long piece off," I instructed him.

For a moment he just stared at me. I raised my eyebrows at him and shoved the bottom of my dress closer to him. At that, his eyes went wide. Then, he ignited his training saber and, very carefully, sliced a long strip of purple fabric off the bottom of my dress.

"Wrap it loosely with that," I said, silently praying that it was clean. "And try to distract him. Make him laugh, if you can. Anything to get him focused on something besides the pain."

That was the best I could do. It wasn't nearly enough.

Still, Tobe nodded quietly and began to carefully wrap Adan's side.

"Right—so—change in plans," I announced to the others. "You lot come up with a place higher up in this tower where we can break through a window, okay? Preferably a big window that a speeder can access from the skylanes pretty easily."

"What? We have to—to get to a—a hangar," the blond boy with the braid panted, finally looking up from the ground to stare at me.

I shook my head. "If that hangar had clones, all of them will. And there were far too many them. We have to leave another way. I have a friend I can comm. She should be able to get someone to pick us up. Okay?"

"Yes," Sors said before the other boy—who looked vaguely mutinous—could say anything. "That makes sense, Miss Sabé." He turned to the braided boy. "It _does_ , Zett. She knows Senator Amidala. Can you help Shia and Trinna make sure the clones don't call the elevator back down? I'm not so good at all that stuff."

I blinked. I had not even thought of that.

Turning around, I saw that the two girls had already pulled the panel off the elevator controls. Trinna was forearm deep in wires, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Shia stood on tiptoes and peered over her shoulder, holding several green wires out of Trinna's way and pointing at something in the panel.

Hoping uneasily that the little Jedi had it under control, I dug in my pocket for my comm link. I eased some weight back onto my bad leg. When I finally felt like I had the pain under some measure of control, I commed Padmé.

She answered immediately.

"Are you on your way here?" she demanded.

"Um, no. More the opposite, actually." I winced.

"Then why are you comming me?" she snapped. "Shouldn't you be focused on not dying? Stars, Sabé!"

My eyebrows shot up. I was the one stuck in a temple with murderous clones! I got to be crabby and stressed out! Not her!

"I am, you nerfherder!" I snapped back. "That's why I'm comming! Who's on duty?"

"What? Sabé, you need to—" Padmé began impatiently, her voice sharp.

"What I need," I interrupted loudly, "is for you to put the handmaiden on duty on the comm!"

Padmé let out a frustrated huff. "Fine. Fine! Don't tell me anything. Just let me—Ellé! Comm's for you!'

After a small pause, Ellé answered. "Um, hello?"

"Hi Ellé—it's Sabé," I said. "I need you to take the airbus and pick me and eight Jedi initiates up from the Jedi Temple."

"I—what?" Ellé squeaked.

"Clones are trying to kill us," I said through gritted teeth as I tried very hard not to lose my patience. "You have to pick us up before they succeed."

"So, uh…" Ellé spoke so slowly it was painful. "You want me to, uh, to commandeer the _Senatorial Apartments' airbus_ in order to fly to the _burning Jedi Temple_ —"

Somewhere in the background, Padmé demanded, "Give me that!"

There was a small commotion on the other end of the line.

"What is going on? Where are you?" Padmé asked the moment the commotion ended. She had clearly just won back control of the comm.

I didn't even bother trying to stop my eyes from rolling.

"In an elevator. Ellé needs to come pick us up. You can't, because stress is bad. If Ellé's not willing to—"

"I didn't say that!" Ellé squawked in the background.

I ignored her. "—maybe see if Dormé or Captain Typho will. We can get to a safe pick-up point," I hope, "but we do need someone to pick us up."

"Of course," Padmé answered so quickly my stomach dropped.

" _Ellé_ needs to do this!" I stressed. "Not you! Stress is—"

"Bad for babies. Yes, Sabé, I am aware," she said with more than a touch of asperity. "Where do you need us—"

"Her!" I corrected hurriedly. "Where do I need _her,_ not you!"

"Yes, fine," Padmé brushed me off. "Where do you need _her_ to meet you?"

I did not have time to argue with her. Trying to ignore the horrible pit in my stomach, I turned my attention away from the comm link.

Trinna and the boy with the braid—Zett, apparently—were deeply involved in the elevator panel, with Jewsi having taken Shia's previous position above Trinna's shoulder. Jewsi held two handfuls of wires out of the way. One of Zett's arms had been wrapped tight against his chest with a strip of brown fabric, but the other hand was carefully re-connecting and disconnecting things based on Trinna's instructions. Tobe sat in a corner of the elevator, entirely focused on Adan, whose tears had slowed to a trickle. Lelila's hand was still wrapped in my dress and she stood next to me, facing Shia and Sors who looked up at me solemnly.

"Where are they meeting us?" I asked my little navigators.

"May I?" Sors asked politely as he reached for the comm.

After a short hesitation, I handed it over. He was more familiar with the Temple. He'd be able to give better directions.

"Senator Amidala? This is Sors Bandeam," he began.

Lelila tugged on my dress. I glanced down at her, only for the girl to nod in Shia's direction.

Shia's hands were twisting her tunic tightly. But when I met her gaze, she straightened.

"There isn't a window you can smash open in the tower," she said. "But Zett says that when he came up the masters were holding the clones at the 11th floor. So he and Trinna are trying to get us to the 13th because there's a classroom with a window as a whole wall there. And Trinna and me can get classroom windows open—we've done it before when we were trying to—" she flushed. "Never mind. But we can do it, Miss Sabé. I know it! We just have to get to the 13th floor and then down two hallways to the classroom."

"Well then," I said, smiling as best I could given that my leg still burned, clones were trying to kill us, and I was responsible for the lives of eight children, "Sounds like we have a plan."

 **Expected Update Time:** **Hopefully before Feb 26th; Definitely before March 19th**


	13. Sacrifice

**WARNING: This chapter is probably less of a K+ rating and more of a T rating. After this chapter, though, we should be back to our regularly scheduled K+ programming :)**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 12: Sacrifice

The moment the elevator opened on the 13th floor, it became apparent that our plan was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a particularly good plan.

The hallway in front of us was empty of people. It was, however, filled with the sound of blasters firing, lightsabers humming, and people screaming.

The battle for the Jedi Temple had, apparently, reached the 13th floor.

Lovely.

"Right," I muttered before turning to the children. "Any other options?"

"This floor is the highest floor with classrooms." Shia's voice cracked.

"And you're certain the windows can't be broken?"

"They're transparisteel with durasteel coating." Trinna's voice was very small. I could barely hear her.

"We should try another hangar," Zett said.

"No." I felt a bit like I was floating. "The hangars will be full of clones. At least this floor seems to have some Jedi too. Do those blades of yours repel blaster shots?"

"Yes," Tobe said. "Master Yoda did it once in demonstration for us. But I don't know if I can—" He stopped.

They were so young. All of them were so, so young. How could this be happening?

"Well," I smiled as best I could, "We'll just have to avoid everyone then. We have a good plan,"—it was not a good plan—"And it looks like some of the hallways are still clear. It'll be fine, I'm sure."

It would not be fine. This situation was the definition of 'not fine'.

But all of the children except for Zett were apparently unaware of this, as, at my reassurance, they seemed to relax slightly. Zett just worked his jaw and hefted his lightsaber, presumably to get a better grip on it.

I stuffed down my rising panic. Clones and Jedi were battling on this floor and I had eight children to protect. Our terrible odds only _might_ get us killed. Panic definitely would.

"Same routine as before," I said instead. "I'll go first and clear the halls, you follow behind and circle up as needed. Zett, you're rear guard."

The children nodded. Sors' mouth was set and Tobe readjusted his grip on Adan's waist. Adan was white-faced but at least partially supporting his own weight.

My leg throbbed.

Still, I cleared the first hallway and, at Sors and Shia's direction, headed to the right. When we reached the second hallway, where I had thought the classroom would be, Shia colored. Then, she mumbled that we'd been in a different elevator than the one she'd thought we'd been in.

I barely bit back a curse and instead calmly asked her and Sors for further directions.

The next hallway was empty too, thankfully. But the further we went from the elevator, the closer the battle sounded. And, if I wasn't mistaken, which I desperately hoped I was, it seemed like the 'battle' was actually _two_ battles, with us caught in the middle.

I forced the thought from my mind.

We approached another hallway, where we could either continue straight or turn to the right. The blaster fire and crashing lightsabers were almost deafening. We had to be close to the battle.

My heart pounded. I stopped a handful of paces from our next choice and turned to my navigators. Shia and Sors both pointed straight ahead and, after a brief, silent conference, held up four fingers.

Four turns left. This was not one of them. So much for only two hallways to go.

Still, with a nod, I gestured for the little Jedi to circle up. Zett remained outside of the simple formation, eyes darting. He flicked a finger and his lightsaber ignited, humming softly. The noise of battle was so loud and so close, that the clones were very unlikely to hear it and come investigating.

So I just nodded at him again, readied my blaster, and crept forward, hugging the wall.

A loud, pained scream echoed down the hall. I reached the corner.

A blaster bolt flew past and slammed into the wall opposite.

Nasty curses filled my mind. I quickly checked around the corner, despite the dread building in my gut.

Five or six Jedi had just backed into the hallway we needed to pass by, their lightsabers whirling and crackling with energy. An absurd number of clones were following them.

More blaster bolts flew past the Jedi and slammed into the far wall.

The clones advanced. The Jedi fell back.

We were supposed to go straight. If the Jedi retreated into our hallway before we could—

We had to get out of the hall and find another—I spun around. Then, I stopped dead.

The children were running to meet me, all of their lightsabers ignited, even Adan's.

"This is the only way!" Shia squeaked, her dark eyes enormous in her face as she skidded to a stop.

Blaster bolts slammed into the wall beyond us, leaving scorch marks on the white stone. Someone in the hall cursed.

Of course this was the only way. Of course.

I flung a wordless prayer up to whatever gods were listening. My heart beat furiously in my chest even as I struggled to keep my breathing even.

"Right." I readied my grip on my blaster. "On three, we run across to the other side. Okay? Stay as low to the ground as you can, while still going fast. Zett, you and I are covering."

Zett glided forward, his blue eyes blazing and his lightsaber steady. I could almost forget that he couldn't have been more than eleven and that his left arm was in a makeshift sling.

The sound of firing blasters and crackling lightsabers drew nearer every second.

No time to waste.

"One." Jewsi shoved Trinna and Shia to her left, so that she'd stand between them and the clones. "Two." Tears dripped down Adan's face, as Lelila slipped to the front of the crowd and Sors slid to the back. "Three!"

I burst forward, my cane shoving hard off the ground as a blur of blue did the same beside me.

My world was my finger on the trigger and the battle in front of me.

I did not go low to the ground. A clone shouted— _Target me, not them, look at me, look at me_!— and a cathar Jedi glanced past me.

Black flashed between white armor, my finger squeezed, a clone staggered and the cathar roared, charging headfirst into the clones, drawing all the fire.

More and more black flashed between the white armor. I kept firing. The cathar collapsed. Three clones fell with him. Two more Jedi raced forward, shouting battle cries.

"Clear!" a young, high pitched voice yelled.

Pushing hard off my cane, I surged to the other side of the hall, Zett at my side, his lightsaber flashing.

Under the cover of the wall, I did a quick headcount.

All of the children were there.

"Go!" I urged, herding them as best I could with my blaster in one hand and my cane in the other.

The children ran down the hall. Gripping my cane tighter, I swung my bad leg forward as fast as I could, putting too much weight on the cane in order to gain time.

Zett threw me a quick, worried glance. He slowed his stride to stay with me.

For the love of—!

"Take forward guard," I snapped. "Know how to clear halls and corners?"

"I—yes?" Zett bit his lip—he clearly didn't know how.

"Take forward guard until the next corner," I ordered as firmly as I could. "I'll catch up and clear it."

Zett hesitated, glancing at my leg, before nodding. He easily sped to the head of the group.

My leg was still only in the throbbing stage, thanks the stars, and my cane was handling the extra weight. What I wouldn't give for a four-point, though. I forced myself to go faster, praying that I wouldn't place the cane wrong and have it slide out from under me.

Pushing myself, I got into the middle of the group by the time we reached the next hall, thanking all the stars that the kids had shorter legs than me. If they'd all been Zett's age and height, I would have had to order them to leave me behind. The clones hadn't come running after us yet, but I was not going to bank on the Jedi actually being able to hold them. They had been outnumbered five to one and had been retreating when we found them.

We had to keep moving, and we had to keep going at speed.

But we also couldn't afford to take chances. Beside me, Trinna gasped for air and, behind me, Adan whimpered.

The smell of smoke and, strangely, of something cooking, became nearly overpowering as we approached the next hall. I ignored it, trying not to think too hard about what it might be.

In front of me, Zett slowed to a walk, and the others followed his lead.

I turned to Sors who, despite having demonstrated the ability to run faster than nearly all of the others, had stayed back with Tobe and Adan.

"Straight or turn?" I asked him quietly.

"Turn."

Nodding, I carefully pushed my way to the front of the group in order to clear the corner.

This one was empty.

Almost.

No one living was in this hallway.

There was a cluster of white armor in the middle of the hall and three more clones lay sprawled at uneven intervals throughout the rest of the hallway. Two of them smoldered slightly, giving me the uneasy feeling that I knew what I had been smelling.

Only two paces away from me, a broadly built arkanian in the brown robes of a Jedi was slumped on the floor. His eyes were open and unseeing. The round burn mark of a blaster bolt stood out starkly against his forehead. I jerked my head away. Very purposefully, I did not look too closely at the other two crumpled figures in brown.

"Eyes up, everyone. Eyes up," I said quietly, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

I wanted to grab hold of the children behind me, bury their faces in my dress and then carefully pick my way through the hall, preventing any of them from ever seeing this.

I couldn't.

There was one of me and eight of them and we didn't have time.

I couldn't even order them to run, at least minimizing their time exposed to the scene. Exhausting the children could be disastrous. And I could not keep running on my leg, not without it giving out on me again.

So we took the hall at a brisk walk.

Tears steaked down Shia's cheeks, Adan's face was hidden in Tobe's shirt, Sors' hands were clenched so tightly he had to be hurting himself, and Trinna had vomited.

While Zett gently guided Trinna along and helped her clean up, I forced myself to think on the task at hand.

After we got out of this alive, I'd talk to them.

After we got out of this alive, I'd figure out how to make this better.

The next hallway was an intersection, giving us the option to continue forward or turn to the narrow right-hand hall or the wide hallway with arching ceilings to the left.

Somewhere nearby, someone screamed.

Shia's tears had slowed to a stop and her face was set. She and Sors quietly reported that we had to turn left. After that turn, we'd have two more before we reached the classroom. Their voices were soft, easily covered by the snapping lightsabers and rapid blaster fire that seemed to surround us.

I gestured for the children to wait while, again, I crept forward to clear the intersection.

Hugging the far right wall, I peeked to the left. Clear. I stepped backwards, darted to the left and stole forward again, this time having to walk past the wall and into full view of the left hall in order to see beyond the corner leading to the right.

My shoulders relaxed slightly.

Clear.

I glanced behind me and beckoned the children forward.

Then, carrying above the clash of lightsabers and blaster fire, came an unbearably familiar sound, a sound that normally meant a job well done, a sound that normally meant joy, relief, a little more light entering into the galaxy.

Here, though, now—

Somewhere nearby, an infant continued to wail.

My heart froze in my chest. Something dark and horrible bubbled up inside me, overwhelming my thoughts and my plans and leaving me only the blaster in my hand and one of the best things in the galaxy, crying out, alone and helpless in the midst of this nightmare.

No.

My grip tightened on my blaster and my cane. The darkness roiled inside me, blacking out everything but that thought, that complete and total denial.

 _No._ Over my dead body. I would notlet—

Something tugged on my dress.

"Miss Sabé?"

Lelila had her hand wrapped in my skirt again, her dark eyes large and worried beneath her blunt bangs.

Zett kept talking, shifting his weight nervously. "We have to go to the left, not the right. Why are you—?"

Somewhere off to my right, the baby kept crying.

But eight little faces looked up at me. And Zett was smart and brave and the oldest but he was only ten or eleven, and he had an injured arm and he couldn't clear corners, and the children trusted me to see them through this and—

I pushed the black helpless fury deep down inside me, somewhere beneath the panic that I'd been holding back since learning the Temple was burning.

"Sorry, you're right," I said with a tight smile. Deliberately, not letting myself look back, I turned around. "Let's go."

We hurried to the left. Despite my best attempts to focus on the eight children in front of me, the infant's cries continued to haunt me, seeming to follow me even as we went further down the corridor.

We were over halfway to the next turn, when I glanced behind me, just in time to see a blaster bolt whizz down the hallway we had just come from.

A tall zabrak in long, black robes staggered into view. She flung a tiny Twi'lek toddler in front of her before using her now empty hand to free something from her belt. Ignoring the wailing toddler sprawled on the floor, she twisted back around to face her attackers, igniting and raising her green lightsaber as soon as it was in her hand. A blue bolt hit the blade, ricocheting out of sight. In her other arm, an infant togruta wailed.

My heart raced as I jammed my blaster into the frilly belt that had come with the dress.

"Jewsi, give me your cloak!" I ordered, swiftly heading to the blond girl, who gaped at the Zabrak. She jerked back to attention and began to rip off her small brown cloak. "Then run! Take the next turn. I'll catch up!" I shouted to my little Jedi, snagging Jewsi's cloak even as I shoved her further down the hall.

They took off. Zett was at the rear, his lightsaber ignited to guard their backs. I whirled around.

A clawdite Jedi had spun into view, his saber flashing furiously even as he stumbled backwards. One of his legs nearly gave out. He collided with the wall at the far end of my hallway, just beyond the narrow hall stretching beyond us, still in full view of his pursuers. The zabrak spun back around, deactivating her lightsaber and shoving it onto her belt before swooping the sobbing toddler into her arm. The clawdite covered her as she lurched forward, finally clearing the corner and fully entering my hallway. Once she was clear, the clawdite struggled to push himself off the wall and back to his feet.

I leaned both myself and my cane into the wall, hurriedly testing, tying and shaping the cloak as best I could.

"What are you doing, you fool?" The zabrak shouted as she careened towards me. "Run!"

Two clones marched into view and began to turn the corner. The clawdite, with one last burst of strength, flung himself off the wall and into their path. His lightsaber cut them down, even as their bolts flew home.

I slung the makeshift baby sling over my shoulder as the clawdite slammed to the ground, motionless.

"Baby sling," I called to the zabrak as I freed my blaster and spun back around. I ran as best I could down the hall, my cane tight in my grasp. She would catch up to me soon. "Frees up your arm!"

Turning to face the clones, I pulled the trigger as quickly as I could without endangering the zabrak. I didn't bother to aim as clones poured into the hallway.

When she had nearly reached me, I chanced a glance behind me.

Nearly all the children were safe. Tobe and Adan lurched around the right hand corner, Sors following close behind as he pushed them forward. His tiny lightsaber hummed at his side.

Zett stood at the corner, lightsaber ignited and eyes wide.

" _Duck_!" he screamed.

Instinctively, I bent in half. My balance shifted too far forward.

I slammed heavily into the wall. My shoulder flared with pain. Growling, I pushed myself upright, fighting for balance and winning.

Zett flew past me, lightsaber whirling.

"No!" I shouted. He had been safe; Why—"Zett—"

Something heavy slid into the sling on my chest.

My eyes jerked up just in time to see the zabrak's back, her green lightsaber humming.

"Retreat, padawan!" she snapped as she flowed forward.

The infant bawled from the sling, nearly deafening me.

"Zett, come on!" I shouted, flinging a look over my shoulder as I sped as quickly as I could to the corner.

He followed, his lightsaber deactivated. He now held the toddler in his one good arm.

Behind him, the zabrak danced. Two green lightsabers flashed and spun, as clones fell before her.

I took the corner, Zett hot on my heels.

The children huddled together a slight ways down the hallway, having stopped before another hallway that was alarmingly close to the one we had just taken. We had the choice to go straight or turn left. Blaster bolts flew from the left hand hallway, hitting the wall several paces in front of the children. The scorch marks were slowly turning the once white wall black.

"This is the last turn." Shia's voice trembled. "The classroom is in the middle of that hallway." She pointed at the hallway the blaster bolts were coming from.

Of course that's where the classroom was.

Of course.

I fought back hysterical laughter as the baby on my chest continued to exercise his little lungs. Eight children stared up at me with mixed hope and dread on their faces.

My thoughts raced, practically tripping over themselves.

What in the stars did we do next?

It wasn't like we could just go down that hallway. It was a miracle none of us were dead yet. We hadn't even attempted to engage the clones. Jedi were dying too fast to count. To walk right into the middle of a battle—suicide.

But then how were we going to get to the airbus? Unless we didn't get to the airbus.

But there were battles going on all around us. The hangars were filled with clones. There was no way we could make it back to the elevator. I didn't have the foggiest idea where we were. The Jedi, stars help us all, were losing to the clones and I had eight—no, _ten_ children depending on me.

I needed more information. "Are there any other—"

"What are you _doing_?" The zabrak's voice cracked through the air, harsh and furious.

I jerked around to see that she had spun back into sight, her lightsabers twirling through the air too fast for me to follow. I could, however, quite clearly see the fury on her face.

Which was quickly matched by my own.

"Our ride is that way," I snarled, jamming my finger towards the hallway where the classroom was, "And so are a whole bunch of clones! I'm one retired handmaiden! Forgive me for needing a minute to regroup! Not all of us are—"

The zabrak barely twisted out of the way of a blaster bolt.

Shame, anger, helplessness, and panic were unceremoniously shoved to the back of my mind as she narrowly avoided yet another bolt.

She was still alive. She was taking on what was probably several squads' worth of clones and she was still alive. She hadn't even been hit yet. An idea struck me. My blood went cold in my veins at the thought. But it was the only idea I had and there were ten little children who needed to live.

"Can you help them get through the hall? There's a transport coming, but I can't get them through a battle safely," I told her as she continued to weave and dodge before me, miraculously not getting hit.

She better be able to stay alive and listen to me at the same time. This terrible, awful plan was the best one I had and she was crucial to it.

"And what about these clones?" she snarled. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit busy right—" She ducked as a bolt slammed into the wall above her head.

I jammed my blaster into my belt again. I surveyed the eight faces looking up at me. Zett was awkwardly holding the crying Twi'lek toddler. Tobe was keeping Adan on his feet, with Sors hovering nearby, looking ready to help Tobe the moment he needed it. Jewsi, scowling fiercely, had a tight grip on Trinna's hand, as Trinna trembled. Shia's eyes were squeezed shut. Lelila, though, had open eyes and steady hands. And she was looking at me.

"Lelila," I said, hurrying over to the tall girl. "Can you run with the baby?"

Lelila paled, but, after a moment, nodded firmly.

Quickly and carefully, I transferred the sling from my chest to hers, adjusting the length as best I could.

"Tell Mistress Jedi the plan and then follow her lead," I said.

They stared at me in confusion.

I did not wait for my words to sink in. Instead, I tightened my grip on my cane and hurried back to the corner leading to the hallway we'd just cleared.

"I have the clones," I told the zabrak as I adjusted my grip on my blaster. The warm wood was as comforting and familiar as the old stone railing that looked over a thousand foot drop and felt like both home and eternity. "You have the children. They know the plan. Don't let Ellé wait for me."

Without giving her a chance to reply, I leaned around the corner and began to fire.

I did not count how many clones there were. I did not even bother to wait for any openings. I fired quickly, in a sweeping motion, doing my best to prevent them from advancing. Occasionally, I ducked back under the cover of the corner in an attempt to avoid dying, just yet.

The clones kept coming. Slowly, but surely. For every one that fell, it seemed two more rounded the corner to take their place.

The rhythm of the blaster fight was easy to fall into. I hadn't done this often, but, still, I'd done it enough. And, so, the world fell away, leaving only the trigger and the advancing clones. A small, distant part of my mind was grateful for it.

They were close enough now that every time they left enough space for me to shoot without actually getting shot, I hit someone. Often times, the thrice cursed troopers kept coming, despite my direct hit.

They were only three or four more steps away from clearing the corner.

Vaguely, I wondered if I ought to back up, at this point. Once they rounded the corner, I wouldn't be able to slow them anymore. But they were also close enough and my leg hurt enough that I would not be able to make it to the next corner.

Maybe if I—

A loud shout knocked the rest of the world back into focus.

I spun around just in time to see the zabrak leap past me.

"Go!" she shouted. "I'll follow!"

For a moment, I stood there, frozen.

Then, I snapped back into action. Tightening my grip on my cane, I spun around and hurried down the hallway. My bad leg jolted with pain each time it touched the floor.

I ignored it. There was no way I was going to let that stupid thing get me killed. I had just barely been rescued.

I made it to the corner and peeked around it. Two blue lightsabers and a green one flashed. Three Jedi held off a horde of clones attacking them from both directions.

Before I could process anymore, something pushed me forward.

Staggering, I jerked my head to see the zabrak at my side, only one of her sabers humming. A white helmet turned and a clone shouted something. About half the clones swung around to face us.

My stomach rose to meet my throat as I swore.

My blaster moved back into position. I fired. The zabrak slid in front of me. Her lightsaber hummed as she flicked away blaster bolt after blaster bolt.

"The others are guarding the door while the younglings open the window. Comm your Ellé and let her know we're ready!" she said sharply, as she cleared a path down the hall, her lightsaber swinging tight and close.

"Comm my—?" I had completely forgotten. I had to let Ellé know we were ready for pick-up. If the Jedi hadn't come back for me—

Praying the zabrak was as good as she seemed, I shoved my blaster into my belt and dug out my comm link. Ellé accepted the connection immediately.

"Sabé? Are you ready?" Her voice shook slightly.

"Yes," I answered from where I huddled behind the zabrak as we inched down the hall. "And we're going to have a few more—"

The world jarred out of place, the hallway spinning as pain shot through me.

My head slammed into something hard. Everything went black, then faded back into focus. The world spun. Green light flashed into view and then out and then in again as a fuzzy back figure—the zabrak Jedi—defended against the white blurs now attacking her from either side. She slowed.

Had to move. Had to get up. Had to help.

Reaching forward, I found the floor with both hands and pushed. Fire raced through my right arm. The world faded away, leaving only burning, searing—I gasped, blinking rapidly.

Not the time. Did not have the time to pass out right now.

With a wretch of will, I blinked the world back into existence. In front of me, the zabrak fell in a slow arc, eyes wide, unseeing. The lightsaber rolled out of her slack grip.

Crying out, I pushed through my left arm and my legs as hard as I could, screaming as I lurched to my feet. My cane—where was my—? Something hard grabbed my arm and pulled. I stumbled sideways, hissing between my teeth.

There was a flash of green and then black in front of my face. Hard hands spun me around and pushed. I practically fell through a doorway. Before I could hit the floor, tiny hands caught me, clutching my dress, my arm, my sides. I regained my balance.

"Miss Sabé?" a tiny, scared voice asked.

I blinked.

A cool breeze rustled the hair that had fallen out of my bun, even as the clash of lightsabers and blasters continued to crackle behind me.

I was standing in a dark classroom, with no lights on overhead. Desks had been haphazardly shoved towards the edges of the room, clearing a path to the enormous open window that dominated the wall in front of me. The twinkling building lights and sharp speeder headlights provided all the light in the room, with the exception of the shaft coming from the hallway with the clones.

Standing between me and the window were eight familiar little Jedi.

The tiny Twi'lek toddler was nestled safely in Zett's arms. The infant Togruta was, miraculously, asleep against Lelila's chest.

"Miss Sabé? Are you alright?" Sors asked, carefully slipping out from my side.

Without his support, I wavered a little, but remained standing.

"Oh, your arm!" Trinna gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth.

With that announcement, the pain in my right shoulder did its best to monopolize my attention. Gathering my courage, I glanced down at it.

"Oh," I said faintly. "Look at that. Someone hit me. Huh."

I tried to distance myself from the wound as I studied it. It was easier, if I didn't think of it as being _my_ wound. It appeared to have been a glancing hit, instead of a direct one. The burn cut across the length of my upper arm, near the ball of my shoulder socket. Thankfully, though, it did not look very deep. Just bloody and black and—I looked away.

"Could have been worse," I said, thinking of the cathar rushing the clones, and the clawdite flinging himself in their path and the slow way the zabrak had fallen.

I blinked rapidly and mustered up a smile for the children.

"Well, almost there! I told Ellé, so she should be here soon. How about you all keep an eye out for her, while I keep an eye on the door?"

The little Jedi exchanged glances. Then, Zett unceremoniously plopped the Twi'lek in Shia's arms. Shia staggered slightly under the weight but she obligingly shifted the toddler into a more comfortable position.

"I'll watch with you," Zett said firmly, striding towards me.

I paused. I'd rather he waited with the others, so that he could leave as soon as Ellé arrived. But if the remaining three Jedi fell before she got here—

"Fine," I sighed.

Then, carefully, feeling very unsteady without my cane, I turned around. Zett waited for me patiently, his saber ignited at his side. I stepped forward.

A shadow slipped in front of the doorway, blocking the light. I yanked Zett behind me. My blaster slammed into position. Before I could shoot, a blue lightsaber lit the dark and—

"Sabé?" Anakin gaped at me from the doorway. His blue lightsaber was raised in front of him, casting strange shadows on his face and making the bags under his eyes seem even darker than usual.

Tension flooded away, leaving me boneless and a little lightheaded. I sagged, my blaster dropping back to my side.

"Oh, Anakin, thank the stars," I babbled in relief. "I thought you were a clone and I do not think I can handle many more clones today, but—wait, hang on, what are you doing here? I thought you left the—?"

"Not the time," Anakin interrupted, striding fully into the room. His gaze flickered past me towards the children and the open window.

"She's coming!" Jewsi shouted, her voice strangely loud. "Miss Sabé, she's—Master Skywalker? How'd you get here?"

As Jewsi stared at Anakin incredulously, I realized why she had sounded so loud. The blaster fire had stopped. There was only Jewsi's voice, the wind, and the hum of the lightsabers.

Beyond Jewsi, the bulky senatorial airbus lumbered its way out of the sanctioned skylanes and headed towards us.

"Thank the stars." The words slipped out before I could stop them. "Oh, thank the stars." I laughed shakily. "Okay, everyone, to the window. They're almost here."

"They?" Anakin reached out, snagging my arm. His eyes flickered oddly in the low light. "They who? Who's almost here?"

"Ellé, one of Padmé's' handmaidens," I answered, praying desperately that Padmé was not with her. Her coming here would be bad enough. Anakin _knowing_ she had come here—I prayed harder.

"You asked—" Anakin stepped closer to me. His face twisted in anger.

"Not now, Anakin," I hurriedly interrupted. "In case you haven't noticed, the clones have lost their minds and are trying to kill us, so why don't we just hold off on this conversation until—"

"Yoland is dead and more clones are coming," a familiar voice said. "We haven't much time, Anakin. Have the younglings—"

I spun around. My mouth fell open.

"Sabé?" Obi-Wan asked faintly.

He stood in the doorway to the classroom. His lightsaber was ignited at his side and his hair was disheveled for possibly the first time ever. Blood stained his robes.

"What—how—Grevious?" I stuttered, thoughts whirling.

"I received your message," Obi-Wan said, slowly walking into the room. "But why are you—?"

"Not the time!" someone squeaked. "By the seven goddesses, this is not the time! Board now, talk later!"

I glanced over my shoulder. The airbus was at the window. Ellé half hung out of the door, her dark face pinched. One hand was white-knuckled on the doorframe. The other hand was tightly grasping Zett's forearm as she helped heave him out the window and onto the airbus.

All of the other little Jedi were already onboard, huddled together and watching us anxiously.

"Ellé's got a point," I said.

I turned back around, hurrying toward the bus. Only I didn't have my cane. I listed to the side. Half a curse escaped before a warm arm slipped around me and righted me. Obi-Wan stepped forward. He tightened his arm around my waist, supporting me as I limped to safety as quickly as I could.

Ahead of us, Anakin ignored Ellé's helpfully outstretched arm. He leapt from the window to the transport and strode past the kids without comment.

"Hold on," Obi-Wan told me, before turning to Ellé. "I have it from here, if you could perhaps take the wheel…?"

Ellé grimaced as she swung back inside. She scurried after Anakin.

I clutched tightly to Obi-Wan as he jumped.

For a moment, we were weightless. Then, my feet lightly touched the floor. Children rushed towards me as the airbus sped off. I let myself crumple to the ground and be buried by their hugs, trying to forget the Jedi who were dying in the Temple behind me.

 **Expected Update Time: hopefully before March 26th, definitely before April 23rd**


	14. Choice

**Minor edit 6/12/2018 for continuity**

 **A/N and Disclaimer: I seem to be not getting all of my review alerts from fanfiction (grr...) so if I haven't responded to you, it's not because I don't appreciate it! It's because I didn't realize it existed. So, a blanket thank you to everyone who's reviewed-I really, really appreciate you guys taking time to share your input! Also, in other news, I stole a line from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland because it is an excellent line and seemed to fit perfectly. It is, however, Lewis Carroll's line not mine.**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 13: Choice

After hugging every child I could get my hands on, blinking back tears of both relief and pain, and gratefully accepting Obi-Wan's help to my feet, I turned to the front of the airbus.

Anakin glared at me, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Ellé sat in the passenger seat, constantly sending anxious looks over her shoulder and at the side viewscreens.

Padmé, heavily pregnant and wearing a totally beautiful and totally impractical blue nightgown, was in the driver's seat, effortlessly navigating Coruscanti traffic. I wasn't surprised to see her. Not even a little bit.

"They're still following, Senator," Ellé said, staring behind us. "I don't think—" She fell silent.

I made to turn around to see who, exactly, was following us, when I jolted my right shoulder.

I hissed between my teeth.

"Do you have any medkits, Padmé?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice as calm and controlled as ever.

"Yes," Padmé answered. "I had Ellé put some in the overhead bins. We have bacta patches and gauze and—you can look."

"Adan! Adan was hit. So was Zett." I turned back to the children, hurriedly looking them over. "Was anyone else?"

"No, Miss Sabé." Sors attempted to sneakily wipe his eyes with the back of his hand. "Only you, Adan, and Zett were hurt."

"Who was the most seriously injured?" Obi-Wan asked as he opened the bins above the rows of seats.

"Adan," Tobe and I said in unison.

I blinked at him. He was sitting on the floor, with Adan huddled into his side. The tiny boy had one arm wrapped tightly around his side and was pale beneath his tan. Tobe's arm was wrapped around him protectively.

I took a few wobbly steps towards them and slowly crouched down, grimacing as both my arm and leg made their displeasure known.

"How are you feeling, Adan?" I asked softly.

"It h-h-hurts, M-miss S-sabé," Adan whimpered. "It r-r-really h-hurts."

Tobe's arm tightened around Adan's shoulders, which made the little boy wince. Tobe immediately loosened his grip again.

"I'm so sorry you were hurt, Adan. But you're very brave." I tried to give him an encouraging smile. "And Obi-Wan should have you patched up in no time."

"Well," Obi-Wan appeared at my side, crouching down next to me. "We can at least start you on the path to healing, little one. I am Master Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Adan gave Obi-Wan a trembling smile. "J-j-j-jedi Initiate Adan Arenders, s-sir. It's an honor to m-m-meet you."

Obi-Wan smiled back. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Adan. Where were you hurt?"

"M-my s-s-side, s-sir," Adan shifted a little bit only to stop, wincing.

"Hmm, well, let's take a look at it." Obi-Wan began to gently unwrap the fraying strip of purple from his side.

"Sabé, can you come here, please?" Padmé called, her voice strangely light.

"I'll leave you in Obi-Wan's capable hands then," I said, smiling at Adan, and gently squeezing Tobe's shoulder.

Then, setting my jaw, I used my good arm to push myself off a nearby seat. I lurched to my feet. My shoulder burned. My leg throbbed. I did my best to push the pain to the back of my mind to deal with later.

By focusing on Anakin's fierce glare and the other children, who seemed to be torn over whether they should stare at Anakin or Obi-Wan, I could almost manage it.

What was Anakin's problem, anyway? I understood being upset that Padmé had managed to sneak her way into this disaster, but why was he glaring at me and not her?

I sent him my most annoyed and confused look as I past him, carefully using the backrests in place of my lost cane, but didn't say anything. There were ten little Jedi in the airbus with us—now was probably not the time to demand that he direct his anger more appropriately.

"What's going on?" I asked as I drew even with Padmé and Ellé's seats.

"We're being followed by clones," Padmé said beneath her breath, so quiet I could barely hear her. "Their transport should be much faster than ours, but they're not gaining—just following."

With a great amount of will, I stopped myself from looking over my shoulder. If Padmé was trying to keep this quiet, immediately glancing behind me wouldn't further her cause any.

"Why would they do that?" Ellé hissed, her voice louder than Padmé's but still quiet. "It doesn't make sense."

"Unless the clones haven't gone rogue. If they're doing this because they were _ordered_ to do it…" Padmé said.

Ellé's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "They could be following in hopes that we'll lead them to other Jedi. And they could arrest us!"

"This can't—it can't be on orders," I said, my heart racing. "Who would order an attack on the Jedi? Who could possibly gain from that?"

Ellé and Padmé exchanged a grim look. Obviously, they knew someone who could benefit.

I swore quietly but profusely.

"You said it, Sabé," Ellé muttered, sending another worried glance behind us.

"I can't lose them," said Padmé, her voice still quiet and calm even though her hands were white on the wheel. "I've been trying since we left the Temple. The airbus is too bulky and too noticeable. No matter what I do, they just keep following several speeders behind."

"So—" My mind whirled. "If we can't lose clones—can we lose the Jedi?"

Ellé looked at me like I'd grown two heads. "After all that and you want to throw the Jedi to the—"

"No! I just meant, maybe we can find a way to hide the Jedi or—or—"

"Drop them off someplace safe," said Padmé, "While keeping the clones' attention on us."

"Right," I gestured at Padmé triumphantly. "Exactly!"

"I'm not leaving Padmé."

I jerked, spinning around.

Anakin stared at me fiercely. "I won't." He did not bother to lower his voice.

I had forgotten he was there.

Beyond him, Adan was sitting more upright, his clothes bulking out slightly on one side. He was biting his lip and staring at us. Tobe hovered next to him, continually looking away from Adan to glance at us. Trinna, Shia, and Jewsi huddled together in the middle of the bus, watching Anakin worriedly. Sors and Lelila stood off to the side. Together, they surveyed the whole scene even as Sors absently bounced the toddler up and down and Lelila cradled the baby. My makeshift baby sling had been flung across a backrest, at some point. Maybe around the same time that Shia had given Sors the toddler.

The only people oblivious to our conversation were Obi-Wan and Zett. Zett was gritting his teeth and blinking rapidly to keep tears at bay. Obi-Wan murmured something while continuing to gently handle Zett's arm. And, to be honest, with the tension in Obi-Wan's shoulders, I was pretty sure Obi-Wan was not as oblivious to the conversation as he might seem.

I turned back to Anakin, who continued to glare at me as though I had suggested we cook Padmé up and serve her as dinner. Even though it had been _Padmé_ who had just suggested that we separate.

"I appreciate your concern, Anakin," Padmé was saying very quietly. "But, truly, it will be safer for all of us if we split up."

"I am not leaving you alone to distract the clones." Anakin's voice was so loud it practically echoed through the bus.

"Clones are following us?" Jewsi whirled around, craning her neck to stare out the back window.

Trinna shuffled closer to Shia, whose hands began to tightly twist her sleeves.

Padmé glanced away from the skylane long enough to throw Anakin a very dirty look.

"Yes," Padmé said. "But it's nothing to worry about, children. We'll take a small detour. There is a tight turn around some old warehouse at the corner of skylanes RW 95-A and RW 96-B. If we time it right—"

"I'm not leaving you," Anakin repeated flatly. "And I'm not letting you be the distraction."

"Anakin," Padmé's voice was carefully even. "I'm choosing to do this. And, as I said, it will likely be safer for all of us. The clones will no longer be on your tail and they won't be able to prove that Ellé, Sabé, and I were helping you. It's the best plan."

"You're going to die if I don't stop it, Padmé. I am not going anywhere. I am not letting you die." Anakin's voice was tight but controlled.

For a moment, I just stared at him. He worked his jaw and stared at Padmé with narrowed eyes.

"Anakin, I don't think—" I began, not entirely sure how I was going to convince him to go along with the somewhat shaky plan, but knowing I had to try anyway.

Before I could figure out how I was going to do that, though, Anakin interrupted.

"Then you shouldn't talk," he snapped.

For a moment, his eyes seemed to flash yellow. Which wasn't even a thing that could happen. I blinked rapidly and then stared at him again. His eyes were blue. Furious, but blue.

The craziness of the day must have caught up with me. Apparently, I was so past my threshold of acceptable panic that now I was seeing things. Wonderful.

"Anakin!" Padmé shot him another disapproving look.

Anakin ignored her and continued to scowl at me.

"This has been a terrible day for both of us," I told him quite seriously, opting to try complete and total honesty and see how it worked out for me. "Please; can't we be nice to each other? I'm just trying to help."

"Trying to help?" Anakin snarled, his face twisting as he glided forward. "You know that Padmé is going to die if we don't do something soon. But you still asked her to come to the Jedi Temple when it was under attack! How is that 'trying to help'?"

I resisted the urge to step away from him, once again struck by how tall he was.

The picture of Anakin sending boxes of datachips at my head in a fit of anger flashed through my mind but I hurriedly pushed the memory down.

This was Anakin. My _friend_. And, apparently, the bantha-brained moron needed someone to knock some sense into him.

"No, I asked _Ellé_ to come to the burning Jedi Temple." Gathering my courage, I used the back of Padmé's chair to help push myself up to my full, if somewhat unimpressive, height in return. "Padmé invited herself along despite my numerous objections. It's _Padmé_ , Anakin. Ignoring her own safety and personal wellbeing is what she does. So stop blaming me for her choices!"

Anakin continued to loom over me and my heart thudded faster. My own looming lacked, somewhat, in comparison to his. The fact that I was a good head shorter than him was not helping me out any.

Deciding that if I couldn't loom, I'd better make up for it another way, I narrowed my eyes further and jutted my chin out. Maybe that would make my scowl look more impressive than his. But I wasn't too hopeful. He looked like he was in the mood to start chucking boxes at my head again.

"Anakin, I need to see to Sabé's shoulder."

I tore my gaze away from Anakin to see Obi-Wan standing calmly before us, holding a medkit and—

"A cane?" I stared, dumbfounded. In Obi-Wan's left hand was an old wooden cane with faded purple and silver ribbons tied up and down its length.

"You left it at my apartment several years ago. I kept it, just in case you ever needed a spare. It never hurts to be too cautious." Padmé said, almost managing to stop her voice from shaking.

I turned back towards her, brow furrowed.

Her hands were, if possible, even whiter on the wheel, and she had lost all her color.

"Padmé?" What had happened? Was something going on with the babies? Why was she—? "Are you okay? What's going—"

"I'm fine, Sabé," Padmé interrupted. "Get your shoulder looked at."

"Quickly." Ellé's face was pinched as she sent another look at the back window. "We don't have much time if we don't want them to get suspicious about our route and, uh, I really think we should hold off on heart-to-hearts until after we all agree on a plan for staying alive."

I stared at her.

She smiled weakly. "Just a thought."

"You have a point." I grabbed the cane Obi-Wan offered me and tried to ignore my burning cheeks.

I needed to stop getting distracted from the main problem. Our lives were still in danger. Now was not the time to get in stupid arguments.

"Sit here, Sabé," Obi-Wan said, carefully taking my good arm and guiding me to one of the seats toward the back of the airbus.

Padmé, Ellé, and Anakin spoke quietly at the front of the bus. I couldn't see any of their faces, and they were finally talking quietly enough that I couldn't hear them.

"Sorry," I muttered to Obi-Wan. "I shouldn't have argued with him. I just—"

Words failed me. The only excuse I had was that I was tired, my arm hurt, my leg hurt, and I hadn't been expecting to spend my night battling my way out of the Jedi Temple with ten children in tow. And that excuse was a terrible one. It was true, of course, but my night had still been considerably better than Obi-Wan's. After all, I was not the one whose people were being massacred and it was not my home that was burning.

"Anakin is—not well." Obi-Wan knelt in front of me and began to inspect my right arm. I purposefully turned all my attention to his face in order to better ignore whatever it was he was going to have to do to my poor arm.

"Nor is he being particularly reasonable right now. The idea of dropping us off and distracting the clones is a good one. Not without risk, of course, but, in a situation such as this, no plan is. But Anakin will not agree to it. His fear for Padmé—" For a brief moment, Obi-Wan looked troubled, but he quickly smoothed his features back to distant politeness.

Just then, my shoulder stung fiercely. I hissed between my teeth and stubbornly willed my shoulder to stay where it was.

"I have to clean it out. The stinging will stop in a moment or so," Obi-Wan said.

"It's fine." I managed a rough approximation of a smile. Then, to distract myself from the way my shoulder now felt like it was being pricked with a thousand needles in addition to being on fire, I continued the conversation. "But if Anakin won't agree, what should we do? I don't think trying to take them in a straight fight is a good idea, especially not with the children, and Padmé says we can't lose them."

"We use Padmé's plan. We simply can't give Anakin a chance to disagree with us," Obi-Wan said, as he started rummaging through the medkit.

"Uh, that sounds like a good idea only if you want Anakin's screams to give away your location to the clones."

A smile flickered across Obi-Wan's face as the stinging was replaced by the cool, sliminess of bacta. "He won't give us away. He certainly won't be happy about it, but he won't risk our safe—"

"I won't!" Anakin shouted.

I turned around to see Anakin step closer to Padmé, who was still driving the airbus.

Ellé sent me a desperate look over her backrest and mouthed, 'Save me' while Anakin continued to shout.

"I won't risk your life, Padmé! Not even for—"

"Anakin!" Padmé snapped. "Volume!"

Grumbling, Anakin lowered his voice to the point I could no longer hear him. Ellé continued to stare at me pleadingly.

I grimaced at her in sympathy and then pointedly looked down at my arm.

She slumped in her seat.

I turned to back to Obi-Wan. He studiously examined my arm, not saying a word.

"Yeah…Are you sure about that?" I asked.

Obi-Wan looked up from my arm to say, "I am."

Unbelievably enough, he was able to meet my eyes steadily. I stared back at him for a moment.

Anakin was already incredibly unhappy and, apparently, quite adamantly against this idea. But, then again, Obi-Wan did seem to know more about what was going on with Anakin than I did. And he and Anakin were best friends and partners…

"Well, I guess if you're sure…" I said. "How can I help?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Thank you."

I gave him a shrug with my good shoulder. "We're in this together, right?" I smiled back a little half-heartedly. "But, really, what do you need me to do?"

As Obi-Wan wrapped my shoulder, he quickly explained.

It was not, by any stretch of imagination, the best plan I'd ever heard. But I'd also participated in and been responsible for far worse plans. So. That was that.

Obi-Wan and I headed to the front of the airbus.

I gave the children, who were still watching Padmé, Ellé, and Anakin anxiously, as comforting a smile as I could when I passed them. Only Shia tried to return it.

Then, we put the plan into action. Obi-Wan immediately engaged Anakin in conversation. As Anakin turned his enraged attention to his old Master, I darted forward as quickly as I could (which, honestly, was not very fast).

I whispered to Ellé and Padmé, "Padmé, detour to RW 95-A and then swing above the skywalk just beyond the corner of the second warehouse. Ellé, help me get the children off. Obi-Wan will deal with Anakin."

I straightened before either of them could say anything.

"I won't lose her, Master," Anakin said.

"I know, Anakin, I know. We are on the same side. I do not want her to die either," Obi-Wan soothed, edging away from Padmé and Ellé.

Anakin, without seeming to realize it, followed.

As Obi-Wan carefully led Anakin away from the front of the bus, Padmé sent me a worried look. But she still took the next turn, heading towards RW 95-A.

Ellé swallowed and, as Padmé turned onto RW 95-A, stood up.

I smiled encouragingly at her as, carefully staying behind Anakin, I approached Jewsi, Trinna, and Shia, the little Jedi nearest to the front of the bus.

Jewsi jumped when I touched her shoulder. She frowned at me but, before she could say anything, I put my finger to my lips. She nudged Trinna and Shia, somehow signaling them to be quiet as well. When the three girls were all looking at me, I smiled and took a step forward, beckoning them to follow me.

They exchanged glances. Trinna slipped her hands inside Shia and Jewsi's. Then, the three girls fell into place behind me.

A little bit beyond them, Tobe and Adan still sat on the floor. Ellé crouched down in front of them as Obi-Wan somehow maneuvered things so that Anakin had his back to the rest of the airbus. They were still creeping towards the back door.

Ellé also put her finger to her lips. Tobe and Adan glanced at each other. When Tobe nodded and the boys looked back at Ellé, she gestured at me and the girls. Tobe stared at her for a moment before tilting his head and looking at me. I smiled and nodded encouragingly. With another slow nod of his own, Tobe stood up. As he turned around to help Adan, Zett appeared at his side.

Zett's makeshift sling had been replaced by a bulky bandage. So, together, Tobe and Zett got Adan to his feet with minimal noise and minimal fuss. Once they were standing, Zett shot an anxious look in my direction and then glanced at Obi-Wan and Anakin before looking back at me expectantly.

I wasn't entirely sure what he wanted from me, especially because it was pretty obvious that 'quiet' was the name of the game here. So, aiming for comforting but vague and open to interpretation, I shrugged and smiled.

Zett's frown deepened. But before he could attempt further nonverbal communication, Sors and Lelila appeared at his elbow. Sors nudged him and Zett looked down with a frown. Sors offered the sleepy Twi'lek toddler to him.

Zett continued to frown but, when Sors offered him the toddler more pointedly, he took her. Once she was in Zett's hands, Sors took the infant togruta from Lelila. Lelila slipped the makeshift baby sling back over her shoulder and, once it was settled in place, Sors carefully placed the infant inside it. Lelila offered Sors a tight smile before slipping behind me.

Sors reached for the toddler, but Zett smiled and shook his head. Sors looked at him for a moment before nodding. Both boys joined the line forming behind me. Ellé joined me at the head of the line, Adan on her hip and Tobe hovering at her side. Obi-Wan and Anakin had come to a stop across from the back door.

"But how?" Anakin was saying, sounding calmer than I'd heard him in days.

Obi-Wan said, "One step at—"

That was when the airbus sped forward and careened to the left.

My cane almost slipped out from under me as I just barely caught my balance.

"Now!" Padmé shouted as the airbus shuddered to a stop.

Jerking forward with the momentum of the stop, I stumbled towards the door.

Hitting the pad, it jerked open, revealing a deserted skywalk a few feet below us.

I vaguely noted that the sky was starting to lighten to grey as I turned back around.

"Hurry, hurry," I urged. "Everyone off!"

I spun back around, reaching for Jewsi.

She disentangled her hand from Trinna's and rushed forward. Grabbing her hand and digging my cane into the ground, I carefully helped lower her to the ground.

Next to me, Ellé had already helped Tobe to the skywalk and was in the process of picking Adan back up off the airbus floor.

"Wait, what's going on?" Anakin demanded.

Shia leaned on my arm for support as she scrambled onto the skywalk.

Whatever Obi-Wan said in reply was lost to my heart pounding in my ears, as I whirled back around to grab Trinna.

I didn't know how far the clones were behind us, but we couldn't have very long before they took the corner. And everyone had to be off the airbus and out of sight by the time they did.

"I won't leave her!" Anakin yelled, loud enough to overcome my panic.

I tried to ignore him, even as Trinna, sobbing, grabbed my arm with shaking hands and climbed off the airbus.

"Jewsi," Zett called, appearing next to me. "Take the toddler."

"Got it!" Jewsi ran forward, her arms outstretched.

"You have to get off now!" Padmé shouted. "The clones's speeder was right behind this over-load transport speeder!"

Adrenaline surged through me as the airbus started to slowly rise.

Jewsi snagged the toddler, Zett leapt off the airbus and Ellé practically threw Sors to the skywalk.

"I can't get off, Miss Sabé!" Lelila's voice was shrill in my ear. "Not without hurting the—"

"Anakin! Anakin, come on!"

"Here, Lelila! Here!" Zett screamed, standing on his toes and reaching as far up as he could.

"We don't have time!" Padmé shouted.

The airbus continued to rise.

It was too high—even with Zett, they couldn't—without stopping to think, I scooped Lelila and the baby into my arms and jumped.

 **Expected Update Time: Hopefully before April 23rd, definitely before May 14th**

 **Disclaimer: "Really, now you asked me," Alice said, very much confused, "I don't think-" "Then you shouldn't talk," said the Hatter. (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland; Lewis Carroll)**


	15. Forward

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 14: Forward

When someone jumps from a tall height, they're supposed to land on their feet and then immediately turn their landing into a roll. This was something that had been beaten into my head since my earliest days at the Academy. People who roll at the end of a high jump are less likely to do serious damage to themselves. Like, for example, break their legs. Or their back. Or their lungs. Or any number of other important body parts.

Unfortunately, none of my instructors had ever told me what I was supposed to do when jumping from a tall height with a child and an infant in my arms. During my descent to the skywalk, I had just enough time to realize that 1) rolling wasn't going to be an option, 2) I couldn't really afford to break my only good leg, and 3) jumping had been a terrible idea. Then I braced myself for impact.

Only the impact never came.

What the—? With a tug at my navel and a yelp, Lelila, the infant and I flew forward through the air. Then, my feet gently touched the ground. Swaying, I blinked. Lelila loosened her death grip on my neck. Automatically, I crouched a little, as best I could, and let her and the infant slide to the ground.

Sors barreled towards her. Lelila had just enough time to angle her body to protect the infant before he crashed into her, hugging her fiercely. With the baby safely in the sling, Lelila carefully hugged him back as he babbled at her so quickly it was basically incoherent.

I blinked at them. After a moment, I managed to tear my gaze away. Beyond them, Obi-Wan stared at me, white-faced and surrounded by the rest of the little Jedi. We were standing in the shadow of two warehouses. The skyway was out of sight.

Obi-Wan must have used the Force to slow my fall and then yank us over here.

"I forgot Jedi could do that," I said a little stupidly, staring back at Obi-Wan.

"You forgot?" Obi-Wan snapped. "Did you forget your common sense as well?"

I jolted back, my mouth falling open a little. Obi-Wan strode towards me.

His eyes flashed. "Did you even stop to consider how badly the children might have been injured? What would have happened if I hadn't—"

"Master Obi-Wan?" Jewsi's voice trembled a little.

Obi-Wan stopped talking, but his eyes, hot and furious, remained fastened on me. I hastily looked over his shoulder at Jewsi, desperate to escape the expression on his face.

The small blond girl had taken a step away from the crowd of children and stared at both of us. Her fists were clenched and her shoulders thrown back, but the fierceness of her stance was somewhat lessened by her furrowed brow and worried eyes.

"Miss Sabé saved Lelila and the baby. You shouldn't be mad at her. They wouldn't have gotten off if she hadn't helped them."

"Miss Sabé has an injured leg and arm. She couldn't have protected them from hitting the ground," Obi-Wan said.

I could feel him boring a hole in my head. But I kept looking at Jewsi. Obi-Wan had a point. But, still, what else could I have done?

"Better the ground than the clones," Jewsi said, setting her jaw.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Obi-Wan still.

"Better neither." Lelila pulled away from Sors and hoisted the sling and the infant back into position. "Thank you for catching us, Master Obi-Wan."

"Yes, thank you," I echoed, even as I gave Lelila and the baby togruta a once over.

Both of them were in one piece, thanks to Obi-Wan's quick thinking. Reluctantly, I looked back at him. His face had softened. He took a small step backwards.

"I apologize," he said quietly. "The younglings are right. I should not have yelled."

"Well, you have a point too," I said back just as quietly. "I just didn't know what else to—"

I stopped, feeling like I'd just been struck on the head.

"Obi-Wan, where's Anakin?"

He wasn't standing between the warehouses with us. If he was, he definitely would have chimed in by now. And, as he was quite a bit taller than the rest of us, he also would have stood out from the crowd. But I didn't see him. I whirled around and took a step away from the warehouses and towards the skyway.

"He wouldn't leave Padmé."

I froze mid-step.

"He's still on the airbus."

"What?"

Obi-Wan didn't say anything. I spun back around. He just sighed and stared at me. I stared back.

Anakin was on the airbus.

I was off the airbus.

"This did not go according to plan."

"No, it did not."

Obi-Wan and I stared at each other for a moment longer. He looked like he needed to sleep for at least a week. I probably did too, if I looked anything like I felt.

"Do we need to come up with a new plan?"

At the interruption, we finally broke eye contact. Obi-Wan turned around and I looked past him.

Zett, holding a watchful Twi'lek toddler, had joined Jewsi at the front of the crowd.

"Are Senator Amidala and her friend in danger?" he asked.

Almost despite myself, a smile crept across my face. He was a good kid.

"We Naboo may not look like much, but that's only because we prefer to be underestimated," I teased gently. "Don't worry about Senator Amidala and Handmaiden Ellé. They'll be fine."

At least they'd better be. If Anakin's short-sighted, selfish, stupidity got them killed—no. Not useful. Obi-Wan and I had a whole herd of children to look after. I could be furious with Anakin and worried for Ellé and Padmé later. One thing at a time, Sabé. One thing at a time.

"Master Skywalker, Senator Amidala, and Handmaiden Ellé are now quite beyond our reach and we've trouble enough to spare," Obi-Wan said, with the air of someone gently offering a correction. "We must first—"

"See to our own well-being," Zett nodded slowly. "We can't help if we're hurt and trying to help people when we're in danger ourselves might worsen their situation. Yes, Master. Sorry. I forgot."

"No need for apologies, padawan," Obi-Wan smiled. "We've all had quite the night. But I do believe our first order of business should be leaving the area." Obi-Wan matched his actions to his words, and began to walk back towards the skyway we'd just hidden from. "Who can tell me why that might be?"

The children exchanged looks and then hurried after him.

I blinked for a moment and then, after adjusting my grip on my cane, fell in at the back of the crowd.

"In order to escape a tail, you should make lots of twists and turns and backtracks. And even when you've lost them, you have to keep going otherwise they could re-trace their steps and find you again." Trinna sounded calmer than I'd ever heard her.

"Very good," Obi-Wan praised as he turned onto the skywalk that would lead us back the way the airbus had come. "Who can tell me what the next step should be?"

"Finding a safe place to regroup and recup—recuba-rest," Tobe volunteered. Adan walked at his side, clinging tightly to his hand but no longer needing Tobe's support to stay upright.

I was at the back of the crowd. I glanced behind us. No one was on the skywalk but us and the airbus was long gone. I looked back to the front.

"Excellent!" Obi-Wan said. "That is exactly right. Now, who can tell me why that is?"

A small but steady stream of speeders flew past us in the grey dawn light. With the sun still struggling to come over the horizon, most of the speeders were fully enclosed, to better shield their passengers from the chilly morning air. My torn dress and bandaged shoulder were not doing much to protect me, however. I shivered, briskly rubbing my hands over my arms in a futile attempt to warm up. In front of me, seemingly oblivious to the temperature, Obi-Wan' strode onward, a sea of children in tan following close on his heels. His brown robe flapped behind him.

"Well said," Obi-Wan told a blushing Shia as we reached a large skylift that would ferry us safely across the skyway to the skywalk on the other side.

Obi-Wan pressed the pad, and the door to the skylift slid open. He waved the children inside first and they obediently walked into the large lift. I followed behind them. As I passed Obi-Wan, I considered quietly telling him what I'd just realized. But maybe Obi-Wan had the right idea. I kept my mouth shut, for the moment. Obi-Wan followed me into the skylift.

The door slid shut and the transparisteel lift began to glide underneath the skyway. Above us, the speeders flew on, their tarnished silver undersides almost indistinguishable from the grey sky overhead.

"I have spotted a small flaw in our current plan," I said, trying to maintain the calm but focused atmosphere that Obi-Wan had somehow achieved during the small walk to the skylift. "Can anyone tell me what you forgot? You get extra points and gloating rights if you can think of it before Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan blinked at me, taken aback. I mustered up a grin for him before winking at the children, who were gaping.

"Anyone?" I asked as I widened my eyes and very pointedly looked down at my torn, blood-stained purple dress and then at their coordinating outfits.

"Ah. Miss Sabé is quite right. There is currently a flaw in our plan."

The children did not catch on quite as quickly as Obi-Wan.

Jewsi glared at my dress and her tunic as if both had personally wronged her. Trinna bit her lip and scrutinized me so intently that I half wondered if she was trying to read my mind. Sors and Shia looked baffled. Zett frowned as he bounced the toddler. Adan glanced up hopefully at Tobe and looked disappointed to see him staring into space, brow furrowed.

Lelila, after giving the others an assessing glance, shifted the baby sling and then said, "I don't know the answer."

The skylift reached the other side of the skyway and, with a loud ding, the door slid open.

"We don't really blend in right now," I told the children as we exited the lift and continued to walk down the skywalk. "You all look exactly like little Jedi and I look like I was mugged. How do you think we can fix this?"

"Different clothes!" Trinna cried. "We can get different clothes!" She beamed at me, looking thrilled to have finally gotten the answer.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "You got it, Trinna—different clothes. And the sooner the better."

"I believe there's a small shopping district two skyways away," Obi-Wan said.

One skyway later, Obi-Wan and the little Jedi ensconced themselves behind an old broken down speeder in a sketchy looking alley. I committed their location to memory before hurrying on alone. Two skyways later, I was telling a shocked and horrified saleswoman all about the terrible mugging I had just endured on my way to potentially life-changing job interview and how I had to hurry or risk being late. A few more lies later, she had agreed to look the other way while I used a store database console to activate a temporary cred chip. One new dress, one new cloak, one new purse, and one new pair of shoes later, I walked three stores down.

There, I gaped at the small selection, made several outraged noises at the prices and attempted to explain Obi-Wan's build to an increasingly annoyed and unfairly well-dressed Makurth. Once that fiasco was finished, I walked into the first children's store I found.

After spending several fruitless minutes attempting to figure out what size each child might be, I winged a prayer up to whatever gods might be listening and bought twenty pairs of children's clothes in a whole host of different sizes. Luckily, my clerk was a teenage Frigosian who was clearly counting down the minutes until the day shift began, so I didn't have to explain myself to her. I had taken only one step out of the store, though, when an idea hit me. I went back into the store and bought a large backpack. Then I returned to Obi-Wan and the children.

I handed Obi-Wan the complimentary garment bag that had come with his new clothes. Obi-Wan frowned at it and then at me.

I sighed. "It wasn't a very big shopping district and I had to tell quite a few lies at the only all-purpose store. This is from the only other store that carried men's clothes and it's the cheapest thing they had. It probably won't fit."

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth but didn't quite make a full appearance. "Well, you've certainly intrigued me."

"That's something," I said as he disappeared back behind the speeder.

Then, I held my four remaining shopping bags out to the children. "I have no idea what size you guys are. Hopefully something fits. If not, just—I don't know. Let me know and I'll see if I can make something work. Whatever you don't wear, put in here." I handed Shia the backpack. "In the meantime, I can take the two little guys."

With some careful maneuvering to avoid waking the poor togruta up, Lelila and I successfully transferred baby and sling from her chest to mine, with a slight modification so the baby wasn't laying in the middle of my chest but more off to the side. This gave me space to hold the toddler. After turning to face the skywalk and making sure my cane was firmly planted and my stance secure, I accepted the little Twi'lek from Zett, balancing her just above my hip.

She blinked up at me.

"Hello, little one," I told her quietly as the children disappeared behind me. "My name is Sabé. What's yours?"

For a moment she just stared up at me. Then she ducked her head into my neck and mumbled something.

"Sorry, love?" I pulled my head back slightly so I'd hopefully be able to hear her better. "What was that?"

The little girl lifted her head a bit and whispered, "Meral. My name's Meral." Then, she buried her head back into the space where my neck met my shoulder, the top of her lekku settling against my ear even as the ends curled in on themselves.

"Well, it's very nice to officially meet you, Meral," I said. I wished I didn't need my other hand to hold my cane so that I could offer her some measure of comfort or sense of security. But it was all I could do to hold onto her.

Meral, seemingly oblivious to my concern, snaked one arm around the other side of my neck and nestled in closer.

"They're holding up remarkably well."

I looked over my shoulder.

Obi-Wan was wearing the cheapest clothes from the formal-wear shop, which still would not have looked out of place at a Senate hearing. He wore black trousers and a crisp black tunic, both of which had intricate silver detailing. The dark red cape was maybe a bit too flashy for our purposes but Wicaté would have approved. It had also been dirt cheap and matched the somewhat floppy red hat I'd picked out for him from the nearest thing I could find to a bargain bin. If the clothes hadn't been at least a size too big, he would have looked like a dashing man with an unfortunate taste in hats. As it was, he looked like a disheveled man trying hard to look dashing and failing miserably. Most importantly, though, he did not look like Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Sabé?" Obi-Wan asked, brow furrowing

"I do good work," I told him, smirking.

Obi-Wan glanced down at himself and then back up at me. His eyebrows rose but he said nothing.

I rolled my eyes. "I do," I reassured him. "But sorry, you were saying?"

He glanced behind him at the speeder where the children were talking—maybe even arguing—amongst themselves.

"Do you have any thoughts on where we might go? I know of a few places but none of them are—" he paused before continuing, "—they are not places I would typically take younglings."

"Well, actually," I said slowly, "I did have an idea."

 **Expected Update Time: Before June 7th hopefully; definitely before June 21st**


	16. Scout

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 15: Scout

It didn't take long for the children to cobble together something they could all wear. It took even less time to pass the infant to Obi-Wan, stuff the remaining clothes into the backpack and swing it around my shoulders. Convincing Obi-Wan that my idea was brilliant took a little more time. But I did manage it.

So, three hours later, my plan was in full swing and working even better than I'd hoped.

"Alright Galactic Scouts!" I beamed manically at the seven children staring up at me. "We have arrived! As exhilarating as this airbus ride has been, I'm afraid we must now exit!"

"Thank the stars," someone behind us muttered.

"Oooh! What adventure are we off to next, Scout Leader?" Trinna had thrown herself into her role with gusto.

"We are going to examine the traffic patterns, Scout Trinna! Isn't that thrilling?"

"So thrilling!" Trinna squealed.

"My ears…" someone behind us moaned.

"I'm so excited," Tobe said with a pained smile. Acting did not come very naturally to him.

"As you should be, my dear Scout! As you should be! Now off we trot." I hitched Meral further up my hip and began to herd the children towards the bus doors.

People hurriedly cleared a path for us. No one made eye contact.

"Thanks for the ride, sir," Sors told the bus pilot as he waited for Lelila to finish climbing the steps off the bus.

"No problem, cub," the pilot said, risking a glance at him.

"Sorry about all this," Shia whispered loudly to the pilot before following Sors off the bus. Shia had spent the last three hours trying to disappear.

Tobe, Adan, and Jewsi filed off the bus and onto the skywalk without a word.

Trinna grinned at the pilot as she skipped past. "This has been so much fun! Thank you so much for everything!"

The pilot grunted.

"Yes, thank you, good sir!" I said as I followed Trinna off the bus.

In response, the doors slid shut and the airbus sped off.

"Well, I never!" I pretended to be offended, glaring at the bus for a moment. Already, the handful of people on the skywalk were beginning to look at Meral, me, and my backpack warily. The pair of clone troopers stationed at the airbus stop turned towards us.

Meral, seeming to sense their stares, tightened her grip and buried her head more firmly against my shoulder. I determinedly did not tighten my grip on her in return.

"Well, scouts," I said instead, smiling widely down at the children, "never mind that bit of rudeness. We have arrived!"

At my loud words, all the pedestrians began to avoid us, not making eye contact and going out of their way to avoid walking near us. The clone troopers exchanged glances and then turned their attention back to the people walking down the skywalk. I determinedly did not sag with relief.

There had been clone troopers stationed at every bus stop. In the districts nearer to the Jedi Temple, there had been patrols too. But, so far, none of them had spared us a second glance, even though the children huddled closer to me every time we passed one.

Apparently, the Galactic Scouts were both more well-known and more hated than I had realized when I had set this plan into motion. Barely anyone was out and about today but, despite the lack of crowds to disappear into, we remained safely ignored. It seemed that no one, not even the clones, wanted to look too closely at a Galactic Scouts troop for fear of catching their attention. It was perfect.

And, even better, the plan was almost done. I just had to stall while we waited for Obi-Wan, Zett and the baby to arrive. They had made it to our last stop unnoticed and had been getting ready to wait for the next airbus when we left. With any luck, they'd arrive soon and we could put the final stage of my brilliant plan into action.

"Now, scouts, find us a good place to observe the traffic patterns! I want everyone to get a good look at the traffic here. Remember! We will be comparing it to the traffic in the business district, residential district and the lower levels," I said.

"Oh goody!" Trinna rubbed her hands together and beamed back at me.

Sors and Lelila exchanged glances with each other and then back at the clones but they didn't say anything. Tobe and Adan obligingly looked around. Jewsi glared at anyone foolish enough to look in our direction and Shia stared at her feet.

Trinna took my order to heart and began to spin in a circle, head swiveling wildly. My eyes widened and my smile slipped. The last time she had done that, she had lost her balance and nearly toppled into a clone.

"Oh, look, scouts!" I said, grabbing Trinna by the shoulder so she staggered to a stop, "I've found a place. Do you see that bench over there? Let's go!"

Five minutes later, we were settled at the bench. I rambled as enthusiastically as I could about the different speeders flying by, the level of traffic and anything else I could think of to chatter about. Trinna helpfully piped up with illogical bouts of excitement while Tobe and Adan tried and failed to match her enthusiasm. The rest of the children suffered in silence.

Just when I was starting to worry that I might lose my voice, another airbus pulled up to the Courscant Couture Circle.

"All right, children! With all that information in mind, take a minute to exam the traffic here in the heart of the fashion district!"

With that, I fell silent, my focus solely on the clone troopers and the passengers exiting the bus. My heart rose to my throat again. Splitting up had been my least favorite part of the plan.

According to Obi-Wan, who knew more about the Galactic Scouts than I did, there was only one scout leader per troop and all the scouts were roughly the same age. Obi-Wan said that meant he and Zett would stand out in our group like a sore thumb. Also, the fact that I had a toddler Twi'lek with me was probably odd enough without adding a baby togruta into the mix.

I didn't like it. But Obi-Wan had insisted.

A group of Bothan teenagers stumbled out of the bus, laughing. A floppy red hat appeared behind them. The teenagers and the hat moved away from the skywalk. The clones stayed at their stations.

I slumped. Thank the stars. I glanced back at the children, who were talking amongst themselves and pointing at the skyways above and in front of us. Occasionally, one of them would steal a glance back at the airbus before turning their attention back to the skyways.

The red hat moved further into the Circle, slowly separating from the small crowd of people that had exited the bus. Several seconds later, the rest of Obi-Wan came into view. He was almost unrecognizable with his absurd hat, baggy black clothes and red cape. I began to talk again, loudly saying 'Scouts' and 'Galactic Scouts' every so often. Following my cue, the children stood up and began making themselves a little more noticeable.

Obi-Wan turned and started heading in our direction. The three people passing by us sped up, their eyes stuck to the ground. The clones watched the airbus fly away.

My heart leapt in my chest. This was probably going to be the most suspicious part of the entire operation. Hopefully everyone would be too busy trying to ignore us to realize what was actually happening.

Soon, Obi-Wan walked into hearing distance. The baby was in a sling across his chest and Zett walked by his side.

"Trooper Zett!" I waved my arm at them and widened my smile even further. My cheeks were going to be aching for days. "Trooper Zett, over here!"

Zett and Obi-Wan exchanged glances and walked over to us. A Twi'lek gave them a pitying look as they walked past, but no one else paid them any attention.

"Trooper Zett, it is such a delight to see you and your father again! How are you enjoying the Galactic Troops?" I asked.

Obi-Wan had also been the one to inform me that older children frequently transitioned from the 'Galactic Scouts' to the 'Galactic Troops'.

"Oh, it's, uh, it's going fine," Zett said.

"Oh, good! So glad to hear that! Mr. Jukassa, I am so sorry to impose like this, but would you mind watching my scout troop while I use the fresher? It's been a long adventure today."

"Of course not," Obi-Wan said.

"Wonderful! They're examining traffic patterns so you shouldn't need to do too much work at the moment. Thank you. Scouts," I turned to the little Jedi pretending to be my troop, "This is Mr. Jukassa. He'll be watching you for a minute while I run to use the fresher. Be good to him!"

"Yes, Scout Leader," the children chorused.

"Here, this is Meral. Watch her for me, will you?" I gently disentangled her from my neck and carefully let her slide to the ground. The moment her feet touched, she hurried over to Zett and buried herself in his side. Zett put his arm over her shoulder and patted her comfortingly.

I beamed and then, with a quick wave, hurried off.

Within seconds, I had disappeared around a corner. Over the last few hours, Coruscant had fully woken up but the Coruscant Couture Circle wasn't buzzing with people the way it should have been. And the people who were around weren't acting normal. Some of them seemed to have their eyes glued to the ground, while others jumped at every little noise or laughed far too loudly. To the west of us, thick columns of smoke marred the skyline.

I tried to keep my own head down as I followed the familiar path to Singular Creations. But I couldn't stop searching for clones out of the corner of my eye. I didn't see any, luckily. As I reached the door to Singular Creations, I took a deep steadying breath before stepping inside.

Two women wandered the aisles, staring longingly at Wicaté's displayed designs. Three salespeople were busy helping potential customers. Only one of them looked up when I walked in. When I bee lined to the casual wear displays, he returned his attention to the Rodian couple he was working with. Slowly, doing my best to look engrossed in the clothes around me, I began to meander my way towards the back of the showroom. When I was sure no one was looking, I slipped inside a door leading to the backrooms.

The hallways between the backrooms were just as cramped as they usually were, chock full of the debris that apparently came with running a top of the line fashion store. I hurried along the hallways, taking an absurd number of turns due to the maze-like design of the backrooms. I made my way past a jerky mannequin attempting and failing to make a full turn, piles of yellow fabric that appeared every few feet, damaged clothes, half-finished outfits and sheaves of design sketches piled on crates and pinned to white walls.

Finally, I reached a familiar large door. I took a deep breath to steady myself. She was a friend, I reminded myself. A very dear, if also frustrating and somewhat frightening, friend. And I was desperately in need of a friend at the moment.

I knocked.

"Go away!"

I'd already pressed the doorpad.

"Sorry for interrupting, Wicaté. It's only I've got a bit of a situation on my hands and I really, really need your help."

The door had slid open to show that Wicaté, as per usual, was at her desk, her back to the door as she stared out the large windows dominating the wall in front of us.

At my voice, though, she jerked and spun her hoverchair around.

"Sabé. What in the name of the seven goddesses are you doing here? You should be with Padmé."

I blinked at her. "Um. No. I should be at work. At the clinic. Because that's where I work now, remember?"

Wicaté rolled her eyes at me. "I'm not stupid. I know where you work, Sabé. But you shouldn't be here or there. You should be stopping Padmé from being a moron. Why aren't you?"

My stomach twisted in on itself. But I ignored it and set my jaw.

"Because I have a situation that I need your help with. So I'm here instead."

"If you don't get to Padmé's, we're going to have more than a situation." In a rare gesture of self-restraint, Wicaté left the word 'idiot' unspoken. But it still managed to come across as clearly as if she had said it.

I ignored it. She was right about Padmé, probably more right than she knew, but I couldn't do anything about that now.

"Wicaté, clones massacred the Jedi and burned the Temple. There are clones at every airbus stop and more patrols then I've ever seen on planet. I have ten Jedi children and Obi-Wan with me. We need a place to hide."

Wicaté's mouth fell open and she stared at me. I shifted my weight, tightening my grip on my cane and offering her the best smile I could muster. It wasn't a very good smile. Wicaté continued to just stare at me. I'd never seen her speechless before. That had better not be a bad sign.

After a few moments that seemed to last for an eternity, I spoke up. "Wicaté?"

She blinked. Then her dark eyes narrowed.

"You haven't seen it, have you?"

"I was in the Temple as it was burning," I said sharply. "I think I saw it a lot clearer than you did."

"Not that." Wicaté spun back around to face her desk. She pressed a few buttons and a holoscreen appeared in front of the windows. "This."

The Senate rotunda appeared on the screen. It was jammed full of Senators. On the middle podium, Mas Amedda and Sly Moore stood on either side of a hooded man who had to be Palpatine. But his face—it was puffed up and strangely wrinkled. What had happened to him? Why was he—?

Wicaté pressed another button and the holo came to life.

"The war is over!" Chancellor Palpatine announced, his voice strange and gravelly.

"What?" I asked blankly over the sound of the Senate clapping.

"The separatists have been defeated!" Chancellor Palpatine continued.

"They have?" I turned to Wicaté, who kept her eyes on the holoscreen.

"And the Jedi Rebellion has been foiled!"

"Jedi Rebellion?" My heart raced even as my stomach dropped. "What?"

"Watch," Wicaté snapped.

"The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!"

The entire Senate rotunda burst into applause.

My head spun. I staggered backwards. "No. No."

" _Watch_ , Sabé."

"The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, but I assure you my resolve has never been stronger."

The Senate clapped again. My heart thundered in my head. Jedi rebellion? Hunted down? Defeated? The war, over?

"In order to ensure security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the First Galactic Empire for a safe and secure society!"

The Senate exploded into cheers.

Empire. The Republic was now an Empire. And the Senators—

"They're happy," I said faintly. "Applauding. Why are they applauding?"

"The Jedi were plotting to overthrow the Senate. They tried to kill the Chancellor. The Chancellor—actually, the _Emperor_ —foiled their attempts and brought us peace."

The holoscreen stilled, went blank and then disappeared, leaving us to face the windows.

In front of us, far off in the distance, smoke continued to rise.

"Late last night, the Emperor found General Grevious and the other Separatist leaders. They were defeated by a strike force of clones. The remaining Separatists pled for peace. That was when the Jedi rebelled and tried to kill Palpatine. The clones stopped them."

I couldn't look at her; couldn't tear myself away from the window.

"That's not—that's not true." I couldn't look at Wicaté, who sounded so calm, so matter of fact. I couldn't stop staring at the smoke, remembering the zabrak who died defending me and the children, and the clones that had shot at us as we ran.

Something soft smacked the side of my face. I blinked and looked down. A ball of rolled up fabric was on the floor at my feet. I looked back up.

Wicaté scowled at me fiercely as she grabbed another piece of fabric from her desk, balled it up and chucked it at me. I just barely caught it before it hit me in the nose.

"Obviously! That moron just turned the Republic into an Empire. He just destroyed several thousand years of democracy. And he didn't even look good while doing it! That tabard is the tackiest thing I have ever seen, without even mentioning that tabards haven't been in for well over two years now. And don't get me started on that hideous hood. If he was trying to hide his scars it should have been a lot deeper and if he was only trying to pretend to hide his scars—" Wicaté made a wordless noise of disgust. "Who dresses that tyrant? They're doing an atrocious job."

As I listened to Wicaté rant, against my will, a small smile crept onto my face. The galaxy was making less and less sense by the hour, but at least some things could be relied on.

"So you'll help us, then?"

Wicaté rolled her eyes at me again. "Obviously."

I sagged, tension flooding from my shoulders.

Wicaté huffed. "Honestly, Sabé. As if I'd leave you or Ambassador Kenobi to those moronic, fashion-deprived imbeciles. Helping you is not how I want to spend my afternoon—fashion week is almost here, you know—but I guess it's not your fault Palpatine picked today to ruin the galaxy."

A laugh escaped. "You guess? Also, fashion week is months away."

Wicaté sighed nosily. "You are so ignorant of the industry, Sabé, it's unbelievable. I cannot believe I spent eight years with you as my main assistant. Now stop dawdling. Tell me how you ended up protecting a bunch of Jedi and what, exactly, you're hoping I can help you with."

I gave her the quick and dirty explanation of what had happened last night and this morning. The longer I talked, the further Wicaté's eyebrows rose.

Finally, I said, "We need a safe place to lie low. Sleep. Figure out what our next step is. I was hoping maybe you had a warehouse you didn't use very often or—"

"My workroom. I have another space rented in the district. I use it to work on my big projects; the game-changing ones. It's not far from here and I sleep there sometimes, so it has the necessities. I'm also the only one who knows about it, it's triple locked, and it has a retinal scan."

"What? Why?"

Wicaté gave me yet another eye roll. "So my competitors don't steal my ideas. Now, take me to these children of yours." She nudged her hoverchair around and began heading towards the door.

"Wait." I hurried to stop her. "I don't think that's a good idea, for you to be seen with the children. We're pretending to be Galactic Scouts right now. It'd probably be really suspicious, especially if the clones recognized you."

Wicaté stared at me. "Galactic Scouts? What is that?"

"Not important. Let's just say there is no reason for you to interact with them. Can you give me directions to your workroom and we'll meet you there?"

A few minutes later, with the directions repeating in my mind, I was back in the Circle, heading towards the Jedi. I rounded the last corner to find them just where I'd left them. Zett, Obi-Wan, Meral and the baby were getting a few curious glances from passersby. But, if anyone stared for too long, Obi-Wan made a small movement with his fingers and then they moved on. The clones were still at their station.

I picked up the pace. My bad leg twinged. Reluctantly, I slowed down again. It still wasn't happy with me and I didn't want to risk it acting up again. At least my shoulder almost felt normal again, I comforted myself.

So, instead of hurrying over to them, the moment I was in earshot, I called out.

"Alright everybody! We're moving on. This way, please!" I waved at them.

They exchanged startled looks but, nonetheless, made their way over to me. Obi-Wan, Zett and Meral were last. I gave Obi-Wan a tight smile that he didn't return and began to chatter meaninglessly as I led them across the Circle, away from the clones and towards Wicaté's workroom.

Trinna continued to pipe up every so often, but her enthusiasm seemed to get closer and closer to hysteria every time. Finally, Shia gently grabbed Trinna's arm as Jewsi leaned in to whisper something to her. Trinna fell silent. Adan and Tobe attempted to make up for her sudden lack of comments, but didn't quite manage it.

As we got further away from the center of the Circle, the fewer people were around us. When we took the last turn, it was only us and, waiting impatiently at the doorway of a squat, ugly grey building was Wicaté.

I sent a quick look over my shoulder to make sure everyone was still behind me. Shia and Jewsi were on either side of Trinna, who looked like she was on the verge of tears. Sors and Lelila stared at Wicaté suspiciously while Tobe and Adan had false smiles fixed to their faces. Zett had Meral on his hip and Obi-Wan followed last with the infant still in the sling across his chest. Obi-Wan's face was tight and tense.

"We're here," I told them. "Come on." I crossed over to Wicaté, my hand slick on my cane as I wished that there was a crowd to hide ourselves in.

"About time," Wicaté snapped. "And, for the love of the goddesses, take that _thing_ off your head. Stars above, it makes me want to blind myself." She stared at Obi-Wan's hat in open horror and disgust.

"When we're inside," I said quickly. "It's a good distraction. Please, Wicaté."

"The moment we're inside it comes off and then I'm burning it."

Wicaté entered a code into a keypad, inserted two keychips and then scanned her eye. The door slid open.

"Well, come on then," she ordered as she nudged her hoverchair inside.

I gave the Jedi another smile and followed her in.

Lights flickered on as the door slid shut.

"The hat, Ambassador Kenboi." Wicaté thrust her hand towards Obi-Wan as Trinna burst into tears.

I whirled towards her, even as Shia immediately swept her into a hug

"We're—we're—are we safe?" Trinna's voice trembled as she looked at me over Shia's shoulder.

I smiled at her as warmly as I could. "Yes, Trinna. We're safe. This is my friend, Wicaté. No one knows about this place but her and, as you saw, it has pretty good security too."

"Pretty good," Wicaté scoffed, Obi-Wan's hat held gingerly between her thumb and index finger. "It's excellent. There's also a fully stocked kitchen, a bedroom and some couches. Don't touch any clothes, mannequins, data consoles or sewing equipment. If you do, I'll know and you will regret it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to dispose of this—this—monstrosity. I'll come back when the store closes."

With that, Wicaté whipped her hoverchair around and left.

 **Expected Update Time: July 9th, hopefully. Definitely by July 23rd**


	17. Breathing

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 16: Breathing

There was a moment of silence after the door slid shut behind Wicaté.

"Are we really safe here?" Zett finally asked.

"For the moment, I believe we are," Obi-Wan answered with a polite smile. "I don't believe the clones will think to inquire about Miss Sabé's friends. If they have realized we are no longer with Senator Amidala, I imagine their focus will be on the Senator's higher ranking contacts, not her former handmaidens. However, that's no reason not to be thorough. Are any of you familiar with completing physical risk assessments?"

Trinna continued to cry into Shia's shoulder. Jewsi hovered nearby, glancing between Obi-Wan and her friends anxiously. The others exchanged worried looking glances.

I hitched another smile onto my face and raised my hand. "I am!" I turned to share my smile with the children. "I could practically do one in my sleep, I've done them so often. Performing physical risk assessments was one of my primary duties when I was a handmaiden for Senator Amidala."

"Was it?" Obi-Wan asked, turning towards me with a curious look on his face even though he knew full well that physical risk assessments had been a major part of the job. "Fascinating. Why don't we go through the building together and compare methods? It would be an excellent learning experience for all of us."

"That sounds like fun to me," I lied through my teeth. "Come along, little Jedi. It's time to learn about something a bit more interesting than traffic patterns."

That earned me small smiles from Tobe, Adan, Sors and Lelila.

"Did you really spend the morning talking about traffic?" Zett asked, brow furrowed slightly.

"Yes. It was dreadful. I know nothing about traffic, except that I don't like it."

Trinna sniffed and glanced at me over Shia's shoulder. "You sounded like you knew a lot."

"That's the trick to a good lie." I smiled as encouragingly as I could. "If you say something with confidence, people believe you. Or, at least, they believe that you believe it, which is just as good, usually. But, anyway. Onto the risk assessments! After you, Master Kenobi." I swept into an elaborate bow, earning a few more half smiles from the children.

"Thank you, Miss Sabé." Obi-Wan bowed shallowly in return, his eyes still distant and polite even as his smile widened.

Then, he began to walk the children through how to complete a risk assessment. I piped up every once in a while when what he did differed from what I would do, but mainly I let Obi-Wan take the lead. The little Jedi trailed after us, with Trinna getting calmer and more engaged in the conversation with every step. The other children seemed to follow her lead, with the number of questions growing as we went along. Occasionally, Zett would interrupt and request for Obi-Wan to demonstrate something again. His nerves visibly decreased each time Obi-Wan smiled and then repeated himself slowly with clarifying directions.

So, together, the twelve of us slowly made our way through the one-story building. It wasn't particularly big, but it was more than large enough for our purposes. In addition to the fully stocked kitchen and cramped bedroom that Wicaté had promised, there was also a tiny fresher with a full bath crammed inside, two small workrooms jammed full of half-finished projects, one workroom filled with a variety of creepy mannequins, and a small room with a sofa, a caf table, and decorated by a variety of different paintings. The only room with a window was the kitchen and even that window was small.

When we passed through the kitchen, Obi-Wan and I both snagged an armful of no-prep food, distributed it amongst the children, and then chivied them out of the room. While Obi-Wan continued to talk the children through the risk assessment, I gave the room a brief glance to make sure there was no evidence of our presence and then decisively pushed the doorpad. One window was still a window too many.

At the end of the assessment, Obi-Wan announced that Wicaté had been telling the truth and that the building was, in fact, quite well protected. Obi-Wan de-camped with the children to the room with the sofa, while I swung by the bedroom to scrounge up some blankets and pillows.

Now that we had finally stopped running, my limbs were growing heavier and heavier and the twinge in my leg had graduated to a full-on, constant, painful throb. I leaned heavier on my cane as I attempted to jam the three pillows I'd found further under my arm. They didn't cooperate very well and, eventually, I just started walking, stopping every now and then to re-adjust, while doing my best to ignore my leg.

After what felt like ages, I made it back to the room we'd claimed. I stared at the doorpad and then at my armful of pillows and the blankets and sheets I'd flung over both of my shoulders. My bad leg gave a particularly painful throb and I hissed through my teeth.

I leaned close to the door.

"It's Sabé," I called. "Can someone hit the doorpad for me? I'm a bit—uh—well, my arms are a bit full at the moment."

There was a brief pause and then a small hiss. The door slid open, revealing Obi-Wan standing beyond it, the infant still asleep on his chest.

He gave me a quick once-over, his face remaining blank even as I attempted to re-adjust that third pillow for the hundredth time, lost my balance and nearly staggered into the wall. Obi-Wan steadied me before I could slam into it and, once I regained my balance, took the pillows from me.

"Thanks."

Obi-Wan merely led the way into the room and I followed, trying not to stare at him too noticeably. There would, with any luck, be time for that later. Right now, the children were huddled together in the back of the room. Someone had dragged the sofa and coffee table from the middle of the room, to the far side. The sofa had its backrest pressed against the wall, with a direct view of the door. The caf table, piled high with our pilfered food, was in front of it.

Adan, Tobe, Trinna and Shia were jammed onto the sofa with Jewsi sitting directly in front of Trinna, in the small space between the sofa and the caf table. Sors sat near Shia's feet, next to Jewsi and Lelila who sat on the short end of the caf table. Zett sat across from Lelia, on the other short end of the caf table. Meral was curled up on his lap, watching Obi-Wan and me as we walked in. All of the children were munching on something and none of them had their back to the door.

"Is the plan to eat and then sleep?" I asked, partially out of curiosity but mainly to give me time to figure out where to sit.

My leg was killing me. I desperately needed to do my stretches. There was also the distinct possibility that if I sat on the floor, I would not be getting back up.

"I rather thought that was a good idea," Obi-Wan said. "Then, when we're refreshed and thinking clearly, we'll be better able to plan."

"Makes sense to me," I agreed.

I paused. Then, I carefully dropped the three blankets and two sheets I found to the ground a little ways from Zett and Meral.

Together, they made a slightly raised platform. I walked around so that I faced the children, my back to the door, and tightened my grip on my cane. Slowly, very, very slowly, I began to lower myself down. My leg screamed at me as my knuckles whitened on my cane. Almost there—Almost—something white hot shot through my leg.

I yelped, even as I lost my grip on the cane.

Something hard jammed under my arms.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting on my pile of sheets and blankets. Zett had frozen halfway to his feet, with Meral standing behind him and twisting at her skirt hem. Lelila was standing on the caf table, facing me, with food smashed beneath her shoes. Jewsi and Sors were in a tangle on the ground between the caf table and the sofa.

Obi-Wan strode into view from behind me.

"Are you alright?" he demanded, his face finally showing something besides polite interest. I just wished it hadn't been anger.

"Um." My cheeks burned. "I'm fine. Sorry to give everyone a fright. My leg is not very happy with me right now. Sorry. Again." Everyone continued to stare at me. I forced a smile. "Uh. Back to your places, everyone. Dinner is not cancelled and the sooner we eat the sooner we can sleep?"

I attempted to widen my smile.

After another beat, Zett lowered himself back to the ground, Meral plopped next to him, and Jewsi and Sors untangled themselves.

Lelila stayed on top of the caf table and scowled at me. "Next time, say something."

Before I could respond, she spun around and hopped off the table.

"Pass the cookies," Lelila ordered the moment she sat back down.

Wordlessly, Trinna snagged a white package from the caf table, and passed it to Tobe who handed it to Lelila.

The children slowly went back to eating. Obi-Wan's face had been schooled back to politeness and he ignored me even as he sat next to me, with his own back to the door.

I willed my face to cool down. When it finally did, I began to go through my leg exercises, occasionally biting back a gasp or a curse when it tried to cramp up on me. By the time I finished my exercises, Adan was fast asleep on Tobe's shoulder and Meral had fallen asleep on the caf table, a sticky sweet fruit crushed beneath her cheek. Next to me, Obi-Wan chewed a piece of jerky, while the infant, unbelievably, slept on. I stared at the Togruta for a moment while Obi-Wan concentrated on his jerky. The baby's back slowly rose and fell. Stifling a frown, I turned back to the other children.

"Does anyone want a blanket or a sheet?" I lowered my voice to avoid waking Adan and Meral up.

"You can keep them, Miss Sabé," Jewsi said. "I think you need the seat more than we need the blankets."

"Don't be silly. I brought them over here for you guys. And my leg is much better now."

It wasn't. It still hurt. But now it was only a dull ache, which was manageable.

Jewsi looked at me doubtfully for a moment, before turning to Obi-Wan.

"Master Obi-Wan, is Miss Sabé telling the truth?" she asked.

My mouth fell open before I could stop it. The children who were still awake looked at him for an answer. Biting back outrage, I turned to him, trying to make it clear through facial expressions alone that he had better back me up.

For a long, unforgivable moment, Obi-Wan stayed quiet, chewing. Then he swallowed and said, "Near enough. I think she can stand to lose a blanket and both of the sheets from her pile at least."

Seriously? _Seriously?_

Jewsi continued to ignore me as she surveyed Obi-Wan through narrowed eyes. After a moment, she nodded and turned back to the others.

"Who should get the blanket and the sheets?"

"The people on the couch should get the blanket," Sors answered immediately. "The most people will get to use it, then. And the sheets—"

Biting back a few choice words that I wanted to fling at Obi-Wan, I instead gritted my teeth and said as pleasantly as I could manage, "You can have all of them. Really. Please. It's why I brought them over here."

Everyone ignored me.

A few minutes later, Obi-Wan, somehow still totally ignoring me, pulled me into a squat as Zett grabbed a blanket and two sheets out from under me. As Obi-Wan lowered me back down onto my slightly smaller pile, the little Jedi on the couch spread the blanket over themselves. Then, Zett gently maneuvered Meral away from the table and wiped her face off, careful not to wake the toddler. They got one sheet while Jewsi scooted closer to Sors and Lelila to share their sheet. The two groups on the floor each got a pillow and the children decided that the third pillow would be mine and Obi-Wan's. I didn't bother to argue since clearly no one was listening to me anymore.

Instead, I glared at Obi-Wan as he stood up to turn off the lights. The infuriating man continued to look politely blank. Before I could give him my best and fiercest glare, the lights flicked off and the room descended into darkness.

"Can we leave the lights on?" Trinna immediately squeaked.

"Yes, please," Shia's voice echoed into the black.

"I don't mind if everyone else is okay with that," Zett said, his voice trembling slightly.

As the rest of the little Jedi hurriedly agreed, Obi-Wan turned the lights back on.

As Obi-Wan sat back down next to me, he murmured, "Once the younglings are sleeping, we need to plan."

I stared at him.

Obviously.

Obi-Wan turned away from me to grab a packet of jerky and a sweet fruit from the caf table. He deposited them in my lap without a word or so much as a glance in my direction.

I continued to stare at him, my eyes narrowed into slits.

"Eat," he ordered quietly.

I kept glaring at him. The stupid man kept ignoring me, instead focusing all of his attention on the children in our care.

Finally, only barely stopping myself from telling Obi-Wan where he could shove his food and his orders and his stupid face, I tore the package open and ripped into the jerky, chewing angrily in Obi-Wan's direction.

By the time I finished the jerky and the sweet fruit, all of the little Jedi were asleep. But Zett was mumbling under his breath, Sors was twitching and Jewsi had tears streaming down her face.

I watched them for a moment, biting my lip. "Should we wake them up?"

"If we wake them every time they have nightmares, no one will sleep at all. This is not a day for peaceful dreams."

"Speaking of," I kept my voice down to a reasonable level with great effort, "What in the stars is going on with the baby? He shouldn't—she shouldn't?" My anger bled away as my thoughts skidded to a halt. This infant had been with us for what felt like a lifetime. Jedi had died protecting this little one's life. And I didn't even know if I should say he or she. "Is the baby a boy or a girl? Do you know their name?"

"No, I don't know his name. And the children do not know it either."

I swore quietly and vehemently under my breath. Obi-Wan glanced away from the sofa to look at the child sleeping on his chest.

"Names are often all Jedi have from their parents," he said. "And we do not know his. I do not even know how we would find out." Obi-Wan's face was stone as, without pausing, he answered my unfinished question. "I sent him to sleep when we first met the younglings in the Temple. His cries were too loud. They were alerting the clones to our presence and it was all we could do to fend off the ones who had already found us. If he drew more clones to us, I feared we would be lost. But the mind of an infant is fragile." Obi-Wan paused, all of his focus on the boy slung across his chest. "I thought he would be awake by now."

My stomach dropped and my mouth dried.

"May I—May I see him?"

Obi-Wan carefully loosened the sling and lifted the tiny togruta free. The infant continued to sleep as Obi-Wan passed him to me. I didn't have any of my usual equipment, but I did a quick physical exam nonetheless. He slept through all of it.

Physically he was fine. And he had passed all the neurological tests I could perform without equipment and while he slept. But he wouldn't wake for me.

He had to be alright. He had to be.

"You were probably just a little more forceful than you thought. I'm sure he'll wake up," I said.

Obi-Wan said nothing. I cradled the infant to my chest, feeling his soft breath against my cheek. Then, I forced myself to move on. Either he woke up or he didn't (and he would wake up—he had to wake up), and no matter what, there was nothing I could do about it. So I grabbed the final pillow and pulled it over, gently situating it between my right leg and Obi-Wan's left. It was very flat and near to the ground and with Obi-Wan and I bracketing it on either side, it wouldn't go anywhere. So, after kissing the baby's soft, warm forehead, I lay him on the pillow.

Then, once I was sure he was settled and not going anywhere, I forced myself to ask my next question. "How did you end up back on Coruscant?"

"I received your message shortly after killing General Grievous. Your information regarding Anakin's—" Obi-Wan paused for a moment before delicately saying "—line of research concerned me. Your implication that Palpatine had been the one to encourage this line of thinking shed some light on a string of events the Jedi Council had been investigating. I attempted to comm the Council regarding my concerns. When no one answered, I left Utapau for Coruscant. I arrived to find Anakin in the Senate rotunda in great distress. The turbulence surrounding him…" Something flickered across Obi-Wan's face before he smoothed it back into that thrice cursed politeness. "I went to the rotunda to find him running through the halls shouting about dead Jedi Masters and how he had to warn the Jedi at the Temple. But we arrived too late. The clones had already begun. We tried to save as many Jedi as we could. And then we ran into you and the younglings." Finally, Obi-Wan turned to look at me, searching my face for something. "Why were you in the Temple, Sabé? You had no reason to be there. You should have been at home or watching the smoke from one of your high spots."

"I was at the Temple because Anakin was worrying me." I gave him a small smile and purposefully shoved away the twinge of annoyance his words had stirred up. "I went to try and talk some sense into him but he ran off on me before I could. Then my leg acted up and I got a bit stuck. I was on the comm with Padmé when she saw the smoke. Then the children arrived and told me about the clones. Why would Palpatine—?" I trailed into silence.

I knew why. But for all that I had never liked the Chancellor, it didn't seem possible. The fact that he killed hundreds of his allies, killed innocent children, in order to gain power… in order to end a democracy that had stood for a thousand years… for all I knew that it had actually happened, it still didn't seem possible.

"Palpatine is a Sith Lord." Obi-Wan had closed up again, staring at Shia impassively as she tossed and turned in her sleep, whimpering.

I stared at him for a minute as his words sank in. A Sith Lord. A short, sharp laugh escaped. "Of course. Great. Not only did a power hungry maniac dismantle the Republic and name himself Emperor, but he's also a Sith Lord. Fantastic. Should have guessed."

"What?" Obi-Wan's head snapped towards me, eyes wide.

"Oh, stars, Obi-Wan, I forgot I didn't tell you!" Ignoring the guilt rushing through me, I quickly updated him on Palpatine's new position and how he'd lied to get himself there.

"And everyone believed him. Everyone believed that the Jedi rebelled." Obi-Wan's voice was flat and his expression was, if possible, even flatter.

After a moment of hesitation, I reached across the pillow with the baby and lay my hand on Obi-Wan's arm. "I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan."

He didn't acknowledge me but he also didn't move away. We sat together for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. Should I take my hand away? Was it bothering him? Obi-Wan had just watched as the closest thing he had to a family was slaughtered. He had watched as his home burned. And he had just learned that the Republic he had given so much to defend had become an Empire and was filled with people who believed the worst of him and those like him. And Obi-Wan didn't seek out touch, didn't seem to find comfort in it, like I did.

I lifted my hand up and began to pull it back but Obi-Wan caught it, lacing his fingers between mine and bringing our hands down to settle on his thigh. I blinked at him. He did not acknowledge me in anyway, his gaze still on the children.

Well. My heart rate sped up even as I scolded it. The nightmare we were in was definitely enough to make anyone, even Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, crave the solid comfort of knowing someone friendly was nearby. I tightened my grip on his hand and tried not to think about it too much.

As we sat together in comfortable silence, my body once again made its exhaustion known. It had been a really long, really terrible night. And day. And I was not as young as I used to be. Staying up all night was no longer something I enjoyed doing. But...

Forcing my eyes open and trying to ignore how they were starting to burn, I said, "I hate to say it, but we should probably come up with a plan, huh?"

Obi-Wan's eyes lightened a little as he sent me a sideway glance. "Well, it's either that or improvise, and I'm sorry to say it, Sabé, but I've seen your attempts at improvisation. It would be wise to plan, I think."

I couldn't stop myself from smiling. "Hey now, I am _excellent_ at thinking on my feet. The Galactic Scouts idea was utter genius. You're only jealous you didn't think of it first."

"You found me out." Obi-Wan's eyes crinkled a little at the corners. "I am exceedingly jealous. I only wish my thought process was as creative and non-traditional as yours."

I stifled a laugh, to avoid disturbing the children. "Is that a polite way of saying my ideas are weird?"

"However would you reach that conclusion?" Obi-Wan widened his eyes in false innocence.

I rolled my eyes good naturedly and gave his hand a small squeeze. "Thanks, Obi-Wan. Really."

Obi-Wan gave me a small smile and a small squeeze back. Then he said, "Where do you think Padmé and Anakin are? Do you believe Padmé would have kept them on planet?"

My smile faded. If I had heard that the Republic had become an Empire, Padmé definitely would have as well. And if she'd heard that Jedi were going to be hunted down…

"No. Or if they are, I don't think they will be for long. After Padmé and Anakin lost the clones," because they had to have lost the clones—they simply had to have, "Padmé probably immediately would have left for Naboo and dragged Anakin with her. Padmé is not stupid and she had to have realized that Palpatine knows her well enough to know that she won't take the destruction of the Republic lying down. And as Anakin is a Jedi, he's in danger too. She'd know they have to get off Coruscant. But, if I know Padmé and," I sighed, "Unfortunately, I think I do, she probably also feels she still has a duty to the non-existent Republic and its people. If Padmé has her way, she's probably off talking the Queen into starting a rebellion or something equally absurd."

"We have to find them, wherever they are. Anakin is not well and I don't want to leave him alone for too long."

That did not sound good. Accurate, but not good. Of all the times for Anakin to be on the verge of a mental break down…

"That boy has terrible timing," I muttered.

"How certain are you that they would have gone to Naboo?"

"Certain? Well, I'm not _certain_ of anything. But if I had to guess, I'd—"

The snap-hiss of lightsabers filled the room as Obi-Wan's hand wrenched away from mine.

My head snapped around as I reached for my cane with one hand and the blaster at my hip with the other. Obi-Wan and Zett stood in front of me, blue lightsabers blazing.

Behind me, one of the children shrieked.

"I let you into my top secret workroom and you shriek at me and threaten me with lightsabers?" a familiar voice demanded. "Well, that's gratitude for you!"

Wicaté nudged her hoverchair further into the room, now visible in the space between Obi-Wan and Zett. Obi-Wan's lightsaber snapped out of existence as I let out a shaky breath of air.

Zett, seeming to blink blurrily in Wicaté's general direction, kept his lightsaber raised.

Wicaté huffed. "Put that away, boy, before you slice up your sleeves. As terrible as that embroidery is, I don't think scorch marks are going to improve it any. Besides, if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't be stupid enough to try and do it myself. Especially when all I'd have to do is wave down one of the thousand clones crawling the skywalks. It's like they're breeding. I think the patrols have quadrupled in number compared to this morning." Wicaté breezed over to me, reached past me and plucked a pack of wafers from the table.

Zett lowered his lightsaber. He stared at her as he deactivated it and stuck it back on his belt. Then he rubbed furiously at his eyes.

"It's annoying," Wicaté continued as she opened her wafers. "Very annoying. And do stop crying. I'm not going to bite you and tears never helped anyone."

I turned around to see the rest of the children staring at Wicaté in varying stages of shock. Adan hurriedly scrubbed his tears off his face and blinked rapidly. Tobe gathered himself together well enough to glare furiously at my friend and wrap his arm around Adan's shoulders.

"Anyway, I've brought you some med kits and more food. I left them in the front hall. So what's the plan?" Wicaté bit into her first wafer and stared at me expectantly.

"Well, the plan was for the children to sleep," I said pointedly. "And then we're heading for Naboo."

Wicaté continued to stare at me, her eyebrows rising as she chewed.

I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled at her. We'd had a rough time of it. And plans didn't just materialize out of thin air. Obi-Wan glanced at me and I shook my head at him. Wicaté didn't really respond to the usual tactics used by negotiators. And it was bad enough one of us was in her sight-lines. No need for Obi-Wan to get caught up in it too.

"That's it? That's your whole plan?" Wicaté demanded once it became clear no one was going to say anything else. "By the seven goddesses, do I have to do everything?"

Without waiting for an answer, Wicaté spun around and exited with a flourish for the second time that day.

 **Expected Update Time: Before August 28th**


	18. Once a Handmaiden

_To Change the Galaxy_

Interlude Part I: Once a Handmaiden

Wicaté Zoola liked Sabé Reccen. She even respected her, most days. You could say a lot of things about Sabé, but she didn't back down when it mattered and she had never treated Wicaté or fashion like a joke. That more than made up for the fact that she often looked like she had blindly reached into her closet while dressing and never appreciated Wicaté's advice. Sabé was a true friend, one of the very few she had.

But that did not stop Wicaté from wanting to throttle her. Sabé clearly didn't understand how much Wicaté was risking by protecting her and her Jedi strays. If she had, she would have had a plan beyond 'go to Naboo'.

The clones had begun searching buildings and private residences. No one was saying what they were searching for, but it didn't take much of a brain to figure it out. So far, according to Wicaté's sources, they were sticking to searching districts within an hour's radius of the Jedi Temple. But the patrols were everywhere and it was almost a certainty that the clones would expand their search eventually. And the fashion district was only two and a half hours from the Temple.

Wicaté wouldn't let anything happen to those beastly children dirtying her couch and floor or to Ambassador Kenobi and Sabé. But if she had to die to protect them, she would ensure that none of them received any peace in the Peaceful Lands. She was about to revolutionize the shoulder sash and she'd be damned if it happened post-mortem.

The moment Wicaté's apartment door slid shut behind her she nudged her hoverchair over to her home-based holotransmitter and initiated an old connection.

Wicaté drummed her fingers against her hoverchair's lacquered wood armrest as she listened to the intolerable 'beeps' emitting from the comm. Someone, she thought irritably, should tell those blasted communication companies that it would be a great deal more pleasant to listen to music while waiting for someone to pick up. Or the sound of a high-speed speeder crash or even advertisements. _Anything_ would be less annoying than those—

"Yané Xentre, Science Department." Yané was sitting at a finely carved desk with a magnificent view of Theed's skyline behind her.

"About time!" Wicaté snapped. "Yané, we need a secure line."

"I—Wicaté?" Yané blinked at her.

Wicaté rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't fall out of her head. "Obviously. The secure line?" After a moment's thought, Wicaté added, "Please?"

"How do you even know I have a secure line?" Yané cocked her head sideways, her long dark hair falling over a surprisingly fashionable blue silk shirt that was all wrong for her. It said 'sensitive poet' not 'genius physicist' and the ruff made her face look too small, besides.

Wicaté swallowed down that helpful information and instead said, "There are scientists stealing your research and trying to publish it. Of course you have a secure line."

If the senatorial aid Wicaté regularly bribed with free, yet-to-be-released Singular Creations samples was to be believed, they did not have time for any of this—not Yané's absurd questions; not even potentially image-saving advice. If Wicaté's information was right (and it always was), they only had a day or two before the fashion district was searched. But Yané was relentless in her curiosity and it was quicker to answer her questions than ignore them. But now Yané had her answer so—

"Get us on the secure line. Now."

"Okay," Yané smiled easily. "Disconnect and I'll comm you back securely."

Wicaté made a loud, disgruntled noise before disconnecting. She nudged her hoverchair back to the entry way and pulled her comm link from her faux-nexu fur purse. She held it tightly in one hand while her other hand went back to tapping on her armrest. Her paralysis didn't bother her often—she'd had time to adjust to the idea and the fabric and the designs she had saved from the Federation had been well-worth it—but she had to admit she missed tapping her foot when impatient. Tapping her fingers wasn't nearly as satisfying.

 _Bee—_

Wicaté cut the beep off. "Well?"

"Okay," Yané said brightly. "We're secure. What's going on?"

Wicaté, biting back impatience and furiously ignoring the churning in her gut, told her.

OoO

Yané Xentre very carefully disconnected two wires and then removed the datachip that allowed her to make interstellar comm calls securely. She took a moment to breathe, counting slowly to five as she inhaled and exhaled.

Once she had taken ten deep breaths, she pushed away from her desk and stood up. She absently brushed at her trousers before grabbing her datapad, her every-day comm link, and the datastick containing the most recent edition of the Journal of Galactic Physics. With a concentrated effort of will, she kept her steps slow and steady as she walked around her desk, placed her belongings in her satchel, and placed her satchel across her shoulder.

Then, she turned back to the connection scrambler she had (almost) perfected two weeks ago in order to prevent those frauds from Hosnian Prime from stealing her and Ralston's hard won data. She took a moment to examine it. Once she was sure it hadn't sustained any damage during the comm call, she dissembled her machine and placed its pieces in her satchel.

She left the university at an even, measured pace. The sun was setting. She had lost track of time again. She often did, when Ralston wasn't there to remind her. It would have been nice if he had been here, with her, instead of proving the frauds were fraudulent to the Intergalactic Research Panel.

But no matter. Things were simpler this way. Yané didn't have to withhold information from Ralston and her walk was shorter since the university was closer to Eirtaé's house than Yané's apartment was.

Yané knew Eirtaé would be at home. Eirtaé adored routines to an unhealthy degree and did not deviate from them unless the planet was on the verge of collapse. If the sun was setting, she was at home and probably finishing dinner. By the time Yané arrived at their cliff-side home, Ras would be putting Reneé to sleep and Eirtaé would be in her office, reviewing her agenda for the next day. Yané would not have to try and invent some falsehood to convince Eirtaé to speak to her alone, which was relief. Yané abhorred lying and was dreadful at it besides.

Yané arrived at Eirtaé's house thirteen minutes later, as she had expected.

Yané climbed the five steps up to Eirtaé's porch and rapped on the door. While she waited for Eirtaé to answer, Yané took the time to admire the house, as she always did. It was a delight, full of 90* angles and exactly placed support beams, ensuring the three stories stayed tall and straight. The beams also ensured that the house didn't erode the cliff and end up as a pile of firewood a thousand feet down.

She quite liked the ingenuity of the design, even if she didn't understand why three people needed three stories or why Eirtaé and Ras had thought the side of a cliff was the ideal place to raise their child.

As Yané idly ran mental equations to find the odds of Reneé accidentally falling to her death before reaching adulthood, the door opened.

"Hello, Yané. What an unexpected surprise." Eirtaé smiled.

Yané pushed the equations to the back of her mind and smiled back at her old friend.

"Hello, Eirtaé. Sabé is in trouble and if we don't help her, she'll likely die. May I come in?"

Eirtaé's face froze but, nonetheless, she opened the door.

Yané stepped into the house and headed for Eirtaé's office, which was located in the far east corner of the house.

Yané was nearly done setting up her connection scrambler when Eirtaé stepped into the office behind her and locked the door. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest but at least she didn't seem to be panicking.

"What do you mean Sabé will likely die?" Eirtaé demanded.

Yané said, "That's only if we don't help her. As it is, I believe Saché is in Exodeen space so if we reach her before she makes her next jump, she should be able to get to Coruscant in eight hours."

While Eirtaé stared at her silently, Yané inserted the datachip and connected the last two wires. The connection scrambler whirred softly as the tiny fans she had strapped in began to cool down the first ignition processor. Without the fans, the first processor tended to overheat and had, in fact, set the whole connection scrambler on fire four out of seven experimental trials. However, Yané had done the math this morning and was fairly certain that the chance of fire decreased 2% every additional minute that the fans ran before the connection scrambler attempted to make a secure connection.

Thankfully oblivious to the odds of her house burning down, Eirtaé said, "Yané, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

Yané, very slowly, with a great deal of extraneous information and unnecessary side notes, told her.

OoO

Eirtaé Anidale Winí did not curse. Her father had always told her that cursing was for ill-bred people with small vocabularies. Eirtaé wasn't certain she believed him but she did know that plenty of people shared his opinions and so she did not curse.

At least not out loud.

She did think a whole slew of them as Yané talked. When Yané had finally finished (with Eirtaé politely hurrying her through the utterly unnecessary explanation of the historical precedent for genocide and the non-existent impact that might have on Sabé's situation) and the urge to swear loudly had passed, Eirtaé drew herself up to her full height and asked, "What can I do to help?"

"I don't know. I don't have a plan." Yané sounded very unconcerned. "I was hoping you would."

Eirtaé continued to not curse. Instead, she took a few deep breaths, picturing serene seascapes and gently sloping mountains.

Finally, she said, "If you don't have a plan, why are we comming Saché?"

Yané looked up from the bizarre machine that now dominated Eirtaé's desk as Eirtaé tried not to look obviously concerned by the horrendously loud buzzing noise it was making.

"Saché's closest to Coruscant and Wicaté sounded like she could do with some back-up. Comming her is only logical."

Yané bent towards a large square panel comprised of tiny buttons with taped on numbers.

Eirtaé's hand shot out and she grabbed Yané's arm before she could initiate a connection with Saché.

"No, no it's not. If we comm Saché without a plan, Saché is going to fly to Coruscant with cannons blazing and then we will have three dead handmaidens instead of two." Eirtaé tried to keep her voice even but it was difficult not to snap at Yané.

Yané knew Saché better than almost anyone. Eirtaé should not have had to tell Yané that Saché would lose her temper and fly off half-cocked, just like Eirtaé should have known from the moment she saw that thrice cursed news report about the Jedi that Sabé would have somehow gotten herself into the thick of it.

Yané blinked and then slowly lowered her arm. "Oh. That's a good point. I hadn't thought of that."

Eirtaé couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes even as she nodded sharply and began to pace her office. Her pacing room had been greatly curtailed by all the wires stretching across the room from Yané's machine, but she did what she could. Standing still was not an option.

"How long did you say it would take Saché to reach Corsucant?" Eirtaé asked.

"It will take her eight hours to reach Coruscant space. Then, the average time in planetary orbit for ab ordinary citizen is four to six hours. Saché is a bounty hunter, though, so she would be able dock in less time if she says she's there on official business."

"Haven't you seen the news?" As soon as Eirtaé asked the question she shook her head. Silly question. "Never mind; you were researching. Well, to catch you up, Coruscant has been on all the holochannels. Since there's a so-called Jedi Rebellion going on, Courscant's port authority is on high alert. They haven't closed the ports yet but they're not letting just anyone come and go. Navigating planetary security will be a nightmare, especially for people without governmental security clearances. It will likely take Saché double the usual amount of time to navigate planetary security... and even then, the broadcast did a very good job of making the Jedi sound like fearsome, evil people. The entire population of Coruscant are going to be on the lookout for Jedi. And that's not even mentioning the clones…" Eirtaé spun neatly in place and began to briskly walk in the other direction.

She didn't like this. It was always best to plan for worst-case scenarios. And, in this worst-case scenario, Ambassador Kenobi, Sabé, and the children only had twenty-four hours before their hiding spot was found and it would take Saché twenty hours to arrive on planet.

"Wicaté probably hasn't kept up her skills with a blaster, has she?"

Yané turned her head sideways. "Did Wicaté ever have any skills with a blaster? It seemed to me that her main skills as a handmaiden were manipulating public opinion through appearances and intimidating people into doing what she wanted by being herself."

Eirtaé did not swear. She kept pacing, using the steady reliable steps to fight off the fear and fury broiling inside her. Sabé was one of her first real friends. Ambassador Kenobi was the savior of her planet. And those children—it was only by the grace of the gods that her own sweet Reneé wasn't one of them.

Idea clashed with idea and plans were constructed and deconstructed in foot falls.

"Eirtaé," Yané finally said, brow furrowed. "Saché's set to leave the system soon. If we want to catch her—"

A curse slipped loose. "Okay. It'll have to do. Get Saché on the comm."

Yané immediately initiated the connection, wincing as her machine made a horrible screeching noise before it settled down, beeping.

After three beeps, Saché answered. "Go for Menakam."

"Saché," Eirtaé forced herself to come to a stop in front of Yané's machine. "This is Eirtaé and Yané."

"Eirtaé and—why?" Saché asked.

"We have a situation," Eirtaé hedged, trying to ease Saché into things.

"A Sabé situation," Yané added, biting her lip as she squinted down at her machine.

Saché sighed nosily. "A little more information would be helpful, guys. What kind of Sabé situation?"

And so, keeping her mind firmly on the plan and trying not to think of all the ways the plan could fail or, more pressingly, the fact that Yané was now hovering over her machine and wringing her hands, Eirtaé told her.

OoO

Saché Menakam stomped into the cockpit of the _Hidden Queen_ , grumbling furiously under her breath.

"Oh, it'll be easy, Saché. It's the only way, Saché. Don't go off script, Saché. I know best, Saché. Sorry Saché, no time to argue, Yané's set the desk on fire. As if that's a reason to disconnect me!"

Saché flung herself into the pilot's seat and began warming up the engines, continuing to mutter to herself.

Saché liked Eirtaé. She did. She really, really did.

But she didn't like when Eirtaé got highhanded. And it wasn't that Eirtaé didn't have good points. It wasn't that Eirtaé was wrong and it wasn't even that Saché disagreed with her.

It was that when Eirtaé got high handed, she sounded like Saché's mother. And Saché had made a point of never listening to her mother.

Grumbling helped.

Especially because, in this case, even though Saché would never tell anyone, Eirtaé's plan was probably the best one. It definitely beat anything Saché could have come up with.

It was still reckless and a lot more dangerous than Eirtaé probably imagined it would be, but nothing Saché couldn't handle. The part that worried Saché the most was actually Yané's part of the plan. Apparently, there was a short cut that would let the _Hidden Queen_ arrive on Coruscant in eight hours instead of the usual nineteen.

Saché had never heard of it. And the first time she had taken one of Yané's short cuts, she had almost landed in a black hole. It was by the luck of the Great Demons and the grace of the Seven Goddesses that she hadn't. But still, Saché consoled herself as she requested permission for take-off, Yané hadn't ever actually been wrong about her shortcuts. She just always understated the danger of using them.

The last time Saché had taken one of Yané's alternate routes, she had arrived on Malastare sixteen hours ahead of schedule. Which would have been great, if she hadn't also lost all of the _Hidden Queen_ 's solar panels and the right wing engine.

But that was why Saché had recently invested in two back-up engines. She could now lose three engines without falling out of the sky. And when all six engines were working—well. A little extra power never hurt anyone, right?

And if Sabé, Ambassador Kenobi, and a bunch of tykes were in danger…

"You are now cleared for planetary take-off. Please wait for permission to enter light-speed," a bored port authority worker announced.

"Excellent." Saché eased the _Hidden Queen_ into flight.

She had just entered planetary orbit when her on-deck holotransmitter let out a loud beep.

"Now what?" Saché muttered, even as she leaned over to answer it. "Go for Mena—Wicaté?"

Saché stared at the holoscreen with raised eyebrows while Wicaté glared daggers.

"Do people think I have a twin?" Wicaté demanded. "Of course it's me! And why did we stop using the secure line?"

"Because despite what she may think, Yané's a physicist, not an engineer. So— surprise, surprise—her secure connection thingy blew up Eirtaé's desk. Besides, I'm in the Exodeen system and Yané hasn't cracked the key to transatomic physics yet, so it's not like she could teleport me her invention, even if wasn't already ruined. Now what do you want?" Saché glared back.

Wicaté huffed even as she raised her datapad into view on the holoscreen and began to read from it in a monotone voice. "Hello. I have found your connection number from your contact page on the holonet. I am comming in order to leave a tip about—"

"Did Eirtaé put you up to this?"

"—a bounty that you might be interested in. If you meet me at a secret point in Coruscant I will give you more information," Wicaté read louder.

Saché muttered, "For stars' sake..."

"I will only give this information to you and I promise you it is a matter of life or death. If you do not meet me in twelve hours, I will disappear and no one will ever—seriously, Eirtaé? Does she really think—This is stupid." Wicaté stopped reading. "You know what to do, I know what to do, we'll both just do it. This is ridicu—" Wicaté disconnected the holotransmitter mid-rant.

"This day's getting better and better all the time," Saché told the stars.

The stars did not respond, but the port authority did. "You are now cleared for lightspeed."

Saché did not need to be told twice. The _Hidden Queen_ took off into the black.

 **Expected Update Time: Sept 20 2017 (let's hope-otherwise Oct 17)**


	19. Always a Handmaiden

**A/N: 500 reviews guys?! Thank you (with a double thanks to all the visitor/anonymous reviewers who I don't get to thank personally)! I really, truly appreciate hearing from you guys and getting your input/thoughts/corrections/predictions-all of it. It really does mean a lot to me and I have no idea how I got so lucky with all you guys. You're the best! Seriously-thank you! (also-next chapter will be business as usual; it has been so strange not writing this from Sab** **é's POV, you have no idea)  
**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Interlude II: Always a Handmaiden

Ellé Oon was not having a very good day and, with the way things were going, the rest of her week was unlikely to be much better. Although, to be fair, she was alive, Senator Amidala and Knight Skywalker hadn't been arrested yet and there were no clones in sight. Which meant her situation was actually slightly better than it had been fifteen hours ago, when she had been piloting an airbus through Coruscant with clones tailing her. Nonetheless, the situation was not great. And her week probably wasn't going to be great either. But at least she wouldn't have to suffer through it alone.

Ellé glanced away from the bright hyperspace lines.

Sitting next to her in the co-pilot seat, Moteé triple-checked their coordinates.

"Are we still on course?" Ellé asked drily, trying to take her mind off all the ways her week—or, to be more realistic, her entire life—was going wrong.

"Shut it, El," Moteé muttered. "I'm not in the mood to argue with you."

Ellé raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Hey, who said anything about trying to argue with you?"

Moteé gave her a sideways glance and snorted. Loudly.

"You forget that I know you, El. You are always trying to argue. And now is not the time."

"I am not always trying to argue! _You're_ the one who likes to argue. I am the victim of your argumentative nature!"

"Victim? You? Yeah, okay, El. You keep telling your—"

 _Beep._

Ellé nearly jumped out of her own skin.

"Just the holotransmitter, El. And you say I'm jumpy."

"You _are_ jump—"

 _Beep._

Ellé cut herself off, looking at the console. Why in the stars did there need to be this many buttons? No other ship Ellé had ever flown had this many buttons. Did they really all have different functions? Could Ellé accidentally blow something up if she hit the wrong one? Was the button even on the console? Muttering to herself, Ellé made her best guess. Which was wrong. She made her second-best guess.

The beeping stopped.

Ellé hurriedly said, "Chandrillian Freighter J-1992, ID code alpha niner niner two on way to Chandrilla. How may I help you?"

A dark-haired, dark-eyed woman smiled back at her. "Chandrillian Freighter J-1992, this is Home Base, ID code omega one omega alpha one."

Ellé's eyebrows shot up her forehead. A country accent? Really?

"You're not Queen Apailana," Moteé blurted.

Ellé whipped her head around, staring at Moteé, outraged. You didn't tell the Queen she wasn't the Queen! Ellé spun back towards the holoscreen.

"I beg your pardon, your highness, for—"

The woman on the other end of the transmission laughed, stopping Ellé cold. "No pardon needed. I'm not Queen Apailana—I am merely comming on her behalf. I need to speak to Senator Amidala. Privately."

"Who are you, if you're not the Queen?" Moteé demanded. "No one but the Queen is allowed to use the royal ID code!"

"Moteé!" Ellé hissed. "Shut. Up."

They were just handmaidens! If this woman needed to be questioned it was a lot safer for Amidala to do it, not them! This woman could get them fired. And they had just broken a whole host of laws, probably. They could not afford to get fired! No one else would hire them!

"It's quite alright," the woman said. "I understand your concern. I am Queen Apailana's cousin, Rabé Tirena. With everything happening on Coruscant at the moment, the Queen is too busy to speak to the Senator herself, but she felt it was urgent this message was passed along. Please, contact the Senator. She will verify my identity."

Moteé stared at the woman on the holoscreen suspiciously.

Ellé took advantage of Moteé's distraction and moved to save their jobs.

She activated the intercom. "Senator Amidala, please report to the cockpit. Senator Amidala to the—"

Ellé's hand was smacked away from the console.

"Ellé! She could be a spy!" Moteé whisper-yelled, glaring furiously. "What are you doing?"

"She knows we're here; she knows the Queen's code; she's _not_ a spy. But she _could_ get us fired. We cannot get fired!"

"You're really worried about our jobs at a time like this? What about—?"

The door hissed open. Ellé whirled around. Padmé Amidala entered the cockpit, her eyes quickly taking everything in. Then, the senator sighed.

 **OoO**

Rabé Tirena tried to hide her amusement as the two young handmaidens bickered their way out of the cockpit. The door hissed shut behind them, leaving only Padmé on the other end of the transmission. As she stared at the projected image of one of her oldest friends, Rabé's amusement faded. Padmé's braid was a simple style, something even the littlest child on Naboo could replicate. Her stomach looked too big for her frame and the dark circles under her eyes were noticeable even through her make-up.

"Rabé." Padmé's smile was tired and didn't reach her eyes. "How are you?"

"Well, I've been better. More importantly though, how are you? Are you okay?"

Padmé lifted one shoulder in an approximation of a shrug. "We're alive, which is more than some can say. Have you heard from Sabé?"

"Well, Eirtaé and Yané heard from Wicaté, who had news about Sabé, so I suppose, in a manner of speaking, yes. She's fine, Padmé," Rabé hurried to say as Padmé's false smile faded. "Her, Ambassador Kenobi, and the children are fine. Don't worry about them. We have everything under control. We just wanted to make sure you were alright. I can't imagine how difficult this must be."

Padmé ignored the implied question, as she was wont to do when she was really struggling. "How did you know to hail this ship? Captain Typho assured me that the decoy—"

"Gregar Typho sent an encrypted message providing an update to the queen. He let her know that he was going to take the clones chasing you on a merry jaunt around the galaxy in your star skiff while you escaped in the freighter. Remí—I mean, Queen Apailana—contacted me soon after she received his message."

It had been several weeks since Remí's election and Rabé still could not quite wrap her head around the idea of her baby cousin being queen.

"And what did the queen say?" Senator Amidala demanded, leaning closer to the transmitter.

"She's appalled, of course. She wanted to ensure you and Ani were well and that port authority hadn't given you any trouble. She was going to contact you herself but her handmaidens convinced her that it would be best if she had some measure of plausible deniability. The Chancellor's been asking after you. The questions are—concerning."

Rabé did not elaborate. Padmé would know what she meant. Padmé would have known what all of this meant the moment she left Coruscant instead of attending the mandatory special session of congress.

"She can't do anything rash, Rabé. Tell Queen Apailana she can't do anything rash. With the death of the Republic—it's a new galaxy and she must step carefully. We don't know how many systems are truly loyal to the _Emperor_." Senator Amidala spat the word as if it were a curse. "Surely some planets realize what he's done and will want to put a stop to this madness. But Naboo must remain neutral until we are able to ascertain how many—"

Remí had wanted Rabé to talk to Senator Amidala but Rabé had just wanted to speak to Padmé.

Rabé interrupted, "Are you coming home?"

Senator Amidala stopped. Blinked. "No. I'm going to Alderaan to speak to Queen Breha. And then to Chandrilla to speak to the—"

"Come home. The babies are due soon. If you're too stressed, they might come early or there might be complications. Come home."

Senator Amidala reared back before planting her hands on the console and leaning forward, her dark eyes fierce and intense. "Democracy died yesterday, Rabé! I cannot—"

"Padmé. Come. Home." Rabé leaned forward too, trying to project all her certainty and all her desperation. "You must come home. You're wearing at the edges—even I can see it. When's the last time you slept? When's the last time you relaxed? Or put your own needs first? The needs of your children first? Padmé, come home. Sabé and Ambassador Kenobi are coming home too and if we're all together, we'll find a way to fight back. To stop this madness. You know we will. But first, you must come home. You must rest, give birth to your children, breathe. We can stop them Padmé, but let us help you. You needn't do this all on your own."

Senator Amidala stared. Then, she crumpled.

"Oh, Padmé…" Rabé felt her heart break as the senator's defenses and conviction bled away, leaving only Padmé, looking sad and lost.

"What are we going to do, Rabé? The Senate applauded its own demise. The galaxy cheered at the slaughter of the Jedi. So few protested and so few are mourning. And Anakin—" Padmé's voice broke.

"He's alive, isn't he?" Rabé sat up straight and leaned forward. "Tell me he's alive, Padmé."

Padmé had never said anything, but Rabé was no fool. Ani was the father of Padmé's unborn children and Padmé loved the man beyond telling. If he had died with the Republic—

"No. He's alive. But he's blaming himself for the death of the Jedi and he's worried about me and he's not— I don't know what to—"

Padmé began to cry.

In all the years of their friendship, Rabé had only seen Padmé cry four times.

Something had to be done.

 **OoO**

Dormé Flenae did not know Rabé Tirena particularly well. They had met several times over the years, typically during political functions, and Dormé had heard Sabé and Padmé mention her fondly. But she didn't know her, not really. And she had not been expecting the comm call she received mid-afternoon, the day after the galaxy ended, the day after Palpatine had declared himself Emperor and the Jedi Temple had burned.

"I'm so sorry to comm you like this, Dormé," Rabé had said. "But it's urgent and you're the only person left on Coruscant that Padmé trusts. She asked me to get in contact with you."

Dormé had immediately demanded to know how she knew Padmé was safe, where Padmé was, why Padmé had left her behind and how in the stars Dormé was supposed to trust her comming out of the blue like this. Dormé did not say that four different clone patrols had come by her apartment already, demanding information on the senator. She did not say that Gregar had left her a terrifying comm message warning her to complete silence and apologizing for not telling her good-bye in person. And she did not mention how frightened she had been when she had been unable to reach Padmé, Ellé or Moteé in the aftermath of that terrible broadcast about the Jedi and the new Empire.

Somehow, Rabé seemed to intuit most of that without her saying anything, though, and before she knew it, Dormé had found herself trusting the woman.

The idea itself was utterly mad and Rabé's reasoning for it was, if possible, even madder.

"It will help Padmé feel as though she is doing something," she had said very convincingly. "It will give her a reason to return to Naboo. It will also help Anakin—make him feel as though he is doing something to redeem himself from whatever wrong it is he is convinced he has committed. And anything that helps Anakin will help Padmé. Also," Rabé had added as an afterthought, "It might actually do some damage to the Empire, which would do a whole host of good for, well, probably everyone, really."

And yet, somehow, here she was. Standing two skyways from the Jedi Temple and waiting for Versé to show up. About to commit treason on the word of a woman she did not even really know.

Dormé wondered, sometimes, how this had become her life.

"Are you sure Sabé isn't behind this?"

Dormé nearly jumped out of her skin, whirling around to see Versé striding towards and then past her, black cloak flapping in the wind.

"Versé! You frightened me." Dormé hurried to catch up with her friend.

"Sorry," Versé said, sounding only grudgingly apologetic. "But really, are you sure this isn't Sabé's idea? Because it sounds like exactly the sort of possibly-genius-but-probably-just-insane plan she'd come up with."

Dormé sighed. "If it was Sabé's plan, Sabé would have commed me, not Rabé. I have a lot more reason to trust Sabé than I do Rabé. But they were handmaidens together, you know. It stands to reason their ideas might seem somewhat similar."

"On that note, why didn't Sabé comm you? Or Padmé, for that matter?" Versé spun around a corner. "Why weren't you contacted by someone you know and trust? It's not like we don't have connections and friendships within the Naboo Embassy."

"Padmé is in trouble, Versé, you know that." Dormé lowered her voice as she hurried to keep up with her friend. "And Sabé is likely right in the thick of it. Rabé said they didn't have a secure means of contacting us and I believe her. Besides, Rabé was using Queen Apailana's private link. She must have had permission. We would have heard if the Queen or her security was somehow compromised."

Versé harrumphed but didn't say anything. Dormé didn't say anything either. She didn't want to accidentally say or do something to make Versé back out.

Versé was a good person and Dormé counted her among her closest friends. But she hadn't been the same since Cordé died. Versé claimed she blamed Sabé for it but, somehow, it always seemed to be her own actions that she second-guessed. Dormé couldn't have her second-guessing herself now. Versé was a lot better suited to this plan than Dormé was.

Finally, after several more minutes of walking, they reached what appeared to be an abandoned manufacturing plant. Dormé took note of the security cams and tried to figure out where the holes were.

"Are you sure Skywalker said it was here?" Versé asked.

"Positive. It's in the entrance hall, he said, second tunnel to the left. It should lead us straight into the Temple."

"Great," Versé said. "Then let's go break into the Jedi Temple. Gods, I cannot believe I am doing this."

Dormé couldn't believe it either. But still, she took a deep breath and double-checked with Versé to make sure her path to the plant was actually viable.

 **OoO**

Versé Hokana mumbled a couple of curses to herself as she crawled through the air ducts of the Jedi Temple.

Versé had resigned as handmaiden. She had flat-out quit. No explanation, no notice, she had just left. Most days, she didn't regret it. She had joined the handmaidens because Cordé had wanted to. After Cordé died because Sabé had been right and she had been wrong, Versé had no reason to stay. So she didn't regret leaving, most days.

Today, though—today she might regret it.

At least if she was still a handmaiden, she would have an excuse for participating in this—this—Versé could not think of a word strong enough or broad enough to encompass what a terrible, crazy, wild and suicidal idea this was. And if she'd still been one of Amidala's handmaidens, she at least would have had something she could point to that could explain why she was going along with this madness. As it was, there were no excuses. She, Versé Hokana, had willingly chosen to go along with this for no reason whatsoever. If this went wrong and Versé ended up charged with trespassing or treason or whatever, it would be no one's fault but her own.

Versé mumbled another swear word under her breath.

"Almost there," Dormé whispered.

Or, at least, Versé thought that was what Dormé said. Versé was staring directly at Dormé's feet as they crawled their way through the temple. The air-ducts were even smaller than Anakin's tunnels had been and Dormé obviously hadn't wanted to speak too loudly. So, really, Versé was mostly guessing what her friend had just said. It was probably, Versé thought grumpily, just wishful thinking.

It felt as though she and Dormé had been trying to break into the Jedi Temple for several life-times.

First, they had to break into the abandoned warehouse. Then they had to find Skywalker's secret tunnels. After that, they had to climb _through_ Skywalker's secret tunnels which had been almost impossible because Skywalker had forgotten to mention the fact that he must have used his secret Jedi powers pretty regularly in order to jump over the _gaping holes_ and to climb up the _completely-smooth-completely-vertical-definitely-not-actually-tunnels_ tunnels. And now they had to have spent at least a decade crawling through the air ducts on their way to the Temple Control Center with only Dormé's neat notes to guide them and a worrying number of clones patrolling below them.

Suddenly, Dormé halted. Versé managed to stop just before she would have rammed her nose into the soles of Dormé's boots.

Dormé whispered something back that might have been 'we're here' or 'here's the beer'. Versé was hoping for the former although she wouldn't have said to no to the latter, either. She waited impatiently.

Green light seeped past Dormé, giving the air duct an eerie glow. Dormé's boots moved forward and, a moment later, Dormé was out of the air duct.

"All clear," Dormé called up very quietly.

"Great," Versé muttered before pulling herself forward and squirming her way out of the ducts.

The Temple Control Center was a large room, filled with stacks of data glowing green. Versé was somewhat surprised to find that it looked like control centers everywhere, nothing strange or mystical going on at all.

"Now what?" Dormé asked quietly.

Versé had worked in security since leaving the handmaidens and was very familiar with control centers.

"Now…" Versé slowly spun. "There." She strode towards the small security console. "Let's just hope the Jedi were confident enough it their abilities that they didn't think to add any extra—" Versé turned the console on.

After a small flicker of blue, the security recordings began.

For a long moment, Versé could do nothing but watch in horror as Jedi were slaughtered.

But then she set her jaw and pulled the datastick from her pocket.

There was work to be done.

"Dormé, keep watch," Versé ordered tightly.

Dormé paused and whispered, "Be careful," before ghosting towards the door to the Control Center.

Versé was halfway through downloading the recordings when blaster shots rang out.

 **OoO**

Moteé Kapha heaved a sigh of relief as their stolen freighter smoothly landed on a small, little known airfield a short way outside of Theed.

Beside her, Ellé snorted as she began to do whatever it was she did to turn the ship off.

"Don't you laugh," Moteé snapped. "Do you know how many times we could have died on our way here?"

Ellé gave her a smug, amused sideways glance.

Moteé's blood boiled. "A lot, El! We could have died a lot! It's a miracle we got past Courscant's security and it's a miracle there aren't clones here waiting for us and it's a miracle the queen believes us and—stop laughing!"

"And you say you don't worry." Ellé ignored Moteé completely and kept laughing.

Moteé growled. "I don't even know why I bother to put up with you." Moteé pushed herself up and stormed out of the cockpit.

"Wait, Moteé, I didn't—"

But Ellé was speaking between snickers, so Moteé kept walking. She reached the small cabin that was probably meant for the freighter's captain and tapped politely on the door, trying to calm herself down.

Senator Amidala and Knight Skywalker deserved to have a proper handmaiden tell them what was going on; someone calm and composed and confident; someone who would help them calm down and feel less frightened. Because, unlike whatever that stupid Ellé might think, they had to have been frightened. This entire situation was terrifying and only a complete and total brainless, arrogant moron would be unafraid right now.

"Yes?" the Senator called.

"We've landed, my lady."

There was a small pause before, with a loud hiss, the door opened.

Senator Amidala smiled and Moteé felt herself relaxing.

Well, maybe if the senator could smile like that, things weren't so bad as she had thought. Maybe Ellé was right and Moteé was just being paranoid. Maybe everything was just—

Knight Skywalker stormed into view, his eyes darting around and his hand landing on the senator's shoulder as he loomed behind her.

Moteé found herself stumbling backwards a step as Knight Skywalker's gaze snapped away from the empty hallway to her. For the first time in her life, Moteé thought she knew what people meant when they said someone had presence. Knight Skywalker seemed to fill the starship, strong enough and angry enough to end planets if they had the gall to stand in his way. Moteé's mouth was so dry she couldn't even swallow.

"Has anyone tracked us? Are there any signs of pursuit?" he demanded.

Moteé knew she should open her mouth, knew she should try to reassure him that everything was fine. She just barely held her ground, fighting the urge to flee back to Ellé in the cockpit.

"I told you I should have been the one to fly us here. They don't even know what to look for. I trained these men. I know how they think. I should have—wait here," Skywalker growled at the senator before storming past.

Moteé stared after him, her heart pounding. Those weren't the words of an angry man.

No. No, Ellé was definitely not right. Anything that could frighten Knight Skywalker—the Hero with _No Fear_ , part of the Team—should be enough to scare the wits out of anyone else. But Moteé was not just anyone else.

She was a handmaiden.

Moteé let out a shaky breath and then pulled herself to her full height. "Wait here with Ellé, my lady. I'll help Knight Skywalker secure the perimeter."

Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she hurried down the hall after him. She caught up just as he marched down the landing ramp.

"Are there any signs in particular we should be on the lookout for, sir? Besides the usual?" Moteé struggled to keep up with his long strides.

"Anything that could hurt Padmé," Knight Skywalker said.

Moteé paused. That had not been the most helpful advice, but that was fine. He had a point. Moteé had trained for years. She could do this. She could help keep the senator safe. She could.

"Hello."

"Eep!" Moteé squealed, freeing her blaster as she whirled around, her finger pulling the trigger.

A dark-haired woman flung herself to the ground, the bolt flying far over her head and slamming into a tree.

"Watch where you point that thing!" Knight Skywalker scowled, snatching her blaster out of her hand.

"Sorry, sorry!" Moteé hurried over to Rabé Tirena and helped her to her feet, her own face burning.

"It's fine," Rabé said with a friendly smile as she brushed off her dress. "I should have known better than to say anything. You must be very—" There was a small pause. "—alert, considering everything that's happened. How are you all? Are you doing okay, Ani? Is Padmé?"

"She won't stop, Rabé. She's going to die and she won't stop." Knight Skywalker sounded anguished as he stepped closer to the other woman.

Rabé smiled comfortingly and reached up to touch his arm. "She's home now, Ani. We'll do everything in our power to make sure she's safe and that she takes the proper precautions. And as for stopping—" Rabé smiled. "Dormé did it, Ani. Padmé will be kept quite busy here, because Dormé did it. She sent us the files."

"She did?" Knight Skywalker stared at her.

"Yes. Her and Versé. It sounds like they're going to have disappear for a while but we have the recordings. Everything's going to be okay, Ani. I promise."

Knight Skywalker seemed to search her face for something. Rabé let him, her composure unshakable.

"It's all clear."

Moteé jerked as two more women walked over to them.

"Yané and I cleared the perimeter. It's safe for Padmé to come out now," the blonde one said calmly. "And it's good to see you, Ani. Truly."

"You too, Eirtaé." Knight Skywalker looked away from Rabé to give the blonde woman—Eirtaé—a half-hearted smile.

"I erased all signs of your arrival from the databases," the small dark-haired woman chimed in. "There's no evidence of your landing here or of this ship ever entering Naboo airspace, so we've got some time."

"Can you even do that, Yané? I thought you—" Knight Skywalker trailed off, blinking at her.

"I can do anything," the dark-haired woman announced confidently, oblivious to the looks Eirtaé and Rabé shared behind her back.

Moteé watched the three women as they neatly took control of the entire situation.

She watched as Eirtaé retrieved Ellé and the Senator, as Yané led them to the transport she had hidden nearby and as Rabé let them into a flower shop with the security of a fortress.

Somewhere between Yané's cheerful explanations of her latest invention, Eirtaé deftly maneuvering the speeder down streets Moteé hadn't known existed and Rabé's warm welcome to her home, Moteé's fear slipped away.

When Senator Amidala finally got around to formally introducing them to her and Ellé, Moteé was not at all surprised to hear that they were once handmaidens; that they had, in fact, been the handmaidens who had served during the blockade.

She was surprised, however, when Ellé, with her typical lack of restraint, asked them why in the stars they were sticking their heads out for the senator after they retired.

The three women had simply looked at each other and smiled.

"Have we retired?" Eirtaé had asked wryly. "I never would have guessed."

Later that night, as she argued half-heartedly with Ellé over who got the nicer blanket, Moteé found herself thinking about that answer. It was over a decade since they had served and yet here they were.

And if Moteé herself had the chance to undo her choices and be back on Coruscant, well away from all the danger, she would still be here, with Ellé and the Senator.

That probably meant something, but Moteé didn't know what. And so, rather than hurt her brain trying to figure it out, she snatched the blanket out of Ellé's hand, collapsed to the floor and curled up underneath the warm, soft blanket.

"Hey! That's cheating! Give it back!" Ellé demanded.

Moteé smiled into her pillow, burrowed deeper and lost herself in the argument.

 **Expected Update Time: October 22nd hopefully- November 18th definitely**


	20. Calm

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 17: Calm

After Wicaté left, it was immediately apparent that the children would not be able to fall asleep for quite some time. So, with a wordless glance, Obi-Wan and I decided to take advantage of both that fact and the medkits that Wicaté had left in the hallway for us. Thanks to the wonder of bacta and the quick medical assistance we had given ourselves on the airbus, we actually weren't in terrible shape.

My shoulder still throbbed, but the place the blaster shot had grazed me no longer looked sickening. Instead, it had the red, shiny look of healing skin. With Obi-Wan's help, my old dressing was removed and a new, simpler bacta bandage was put on. My arm would probably be practically back to normal within one or two more days. Zett's injured arm was equally well healed. He had almost full range of motion with it now, although he did grimace while moving, so it probably hurt more than he wanted to let on.

Adan was still the worst off. If the world hadn't just imploded, he would have been in a medcenter. As it was, Obi-Wan seemed to have enough experience with field medicine to make do. Adan's injury was re-wrapped with bandages soaked in bacta and then covered up by drier bandages. I did my best to distract the children so that they wouldn't look at how bloody the old bandages were. I tried not to look at it myself. Obi-Wan didn't seem too worried about it and Adan had been able to walk around pretty normally with the injury, so it couldn't have been as bad as it looked. Right?

By the time we had finished with the medkits, the little Jedi had mostly recovered from Wicaté. Meral had already dropped back to sleep and Shia looked well on her way. Along with the medkits, Wicaté had, as she said, brought food. She had even thought to bring something for the infant to eat.

So, while Obi-Wan finished bandaging Adan, I turned my attention back to the togruta baby and did another quick assessment. This time, he snuffled and whimpered a little bit as I handled him. I tried to keep my breathing even and my hopes low even as I carefully increased the pressure of my pokes and prods.

"Come on," I muttered, rubbing his little arm. "Come on, darling, open those eyes for me. Come on."

His whimpering increased slightly. Ignoring the little part of me that immediately wanted to stop causing the poor child discomfort, I continued to provide him uncomfortable, but safe, stimulation. Togruta infants were far better prepared to handle tough situations that almost any other species I was aware of. The togruta home world, Shili, was not an easy place to survive. There were an absurd number of predators and, prior to galactic contact, food had often been scarce. The togruta had adapted to the challenges of their planet. Their infants could go almost two weeks without eating or drinking if they had been born healthy and had luck on their side. But it was very obviously not healthy for the child and could lead to some severe complications later in life. If this little one didn't wake up soon, not even his heritage would—

Blue eyes blinked open and immediately filled with tears as his whimpers grew louder.

"Obi-Wan—Obi-Wan! He's awake!"

"Pardon?"

"The baby—he woke up!"

It felt like my smile was so wide it might split my face open. _He was awake_! The baby, unfortunately, was not nearly as excited about this fact as I was. He began to wail.

Obi-Wan appeared at my shoulder as if by magic.

"Where's the bottle? Do you have the bottle Wicaté—"

Obi-Wan handed me the bottle before I finished speaking.

"He's alright, then? Is he alright?" Obi-Wan hovered over my shoulder as I tried to persuade the unhappy baby to take the bottle.

"This is yummy, little one," I crooned as he continued to cry. "And it'll make you feel better. Come on, baby boy, won't you just—"

He took the bottle.

I laughed, beaming as he sucked it down.

After that, things seemed to fall together. The little Jedi dropped back to sleep one by one. Tension almost visibly slipped away from Obi-Wan as he sat down next to me, leaning over to stare at the baby as he finished his bottle. The two of them were fascinated with each other. Once the baby was done eating, he stared at Obi-Wan with as much interest as Obi-Wan stared at him.

For a while, I watched them watching each other, something warm bubbling up in my stomach. But then my eyes started to burn and keeping them open began to feel impossible. And Obi-Wan and the baby seemed much more interested in each other than in me.

"Here," I leaned against Obi-Wan and carefully offered him the baby—who, apparently a contrary little thing, looked away from Obi-Wan to whimper at me.

There was a faint smile on Obi-Wan's face as he glanced away from the baby, towards me. "I think he likes you."

I sagged against Obi-Wan, even as I reluctantly brought the baby closer to me again. "I like sleep."

Obi-Wan laughed quietly. "Can you put him in your lap?"

"Huh." That was not a bad idea. With some maneuvering, and the baby making his feelings known when I positioned him in places he didn't like, he was eventually settled safely in my lap. Very shortly after that, my eyes slipped shut.

What felt like only seconds later, someone shook me.

"As adorable as this is, we have business to get to."

I groaned. There was something warm at my side, warm at my cheek and something warm on my legs and I really did not want to move.

"I am absolutely not joking, Sabé. Wake. Up," the familiar voice insisted. My shoulders were given another rough shake, sending my head lolling and knocking into something kind of hard.

"I hate you," I mumbled, forcing my eyes open.

Wicaté scowled down at me from her hoverchair. "Yeah, well, I don't like you right now either."

"We truly appreciate everything you've done for us, Miss Wicaté. Truly." Obi-Wan's voice was very, very close.

I blinked again. Why was he so—? Oh. I had fallen asleep against Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was probably the only reason I hadn't tumbled to the floor and knocked myself out. My cheeks burned and I bolted upright.

The togruta, still safely in my lap, let out a small gurgle as Obi-Wan's arm slipped off my shoulders. Wait—his arm had been around my—? Focus, Sabé! I glanced down at the baby, who was safe, awake, and scrunching his face at Wicaté. I craned my neck to look at her again.

"Yes, well, I'd really appreciate it if the two of you got your act together," Wicaté snapped.

"Hey," I protested, "Our act is very together. We are alive and safe and have—"

"No plan to speak of," Wicaté interrupted. "I am well aware. Luckily for you, unlike some people, I did not spend the last six hours doing nothing."

I scowled at her. "We did not spend—wait." All of her words finally sunk in. "What have you been doing then?"

"I have a plan." Wicaté smiled.

"You… have a plan?" I could not recall Wicaté ever having a plan that didn't involve clothes.

"That is exactly what I just said, yes. Keep up, Sabé."

"I—what is this plan, exactly?"

"Saché is flying in from—"

"What? Saché? You and Saché made this plan?"

We were dead. We were so incredibly dead.

Wicaté rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like that. Eirtaé did the planning. I just decided which parts of the plan were stupid and should be ignored."

I kept staring at her. "Eirtaé's involved in this?"

Wicaté looked at me like she thought I might have brain damage. "Are you an idiot? I just said she did most of the planning. Yané kept us off the radar and Rabé said she'd clear it with the Queen. Can we talk about the plan now? In a different room? Before these children of yours wake up?"

She said 'children' like it was a dirty word. And she had talked to practically all of our friends on Naboo.

Obi-Wan said, "We shouldn't go far."

"Fine." Wicaté spun around and nudged the hoverchair out of the room.

I glanced behind me. All of the children were asleep and, for once, none of them seemed to be having nightmares, although Trinna, Jewsi, and Adan did have tear tracks on their faces.

As Obi-Wan stood up, I carefully placed the togruta on a nearby pillow. He immediately scrunched up his nose and began to whimper.

"One moment, little one," I said as soothingly as I could.

"Sabé," Obi-Wan said.

I turned to see him offering me a hand. I smiled and gratefully took it. With his help and only one small hiss of pain, I got to my feet, my cane in position.

The togruta's whimpers grew louder, even as Obi-Wan swooped him off the pillow and into his arms.

"Shh, shh," I told the baby as Obi-Wan and I slowly followed Wicaté out into the hallway.

The baby didn't listen and his whimpers grew into something dangerously close to a cry.

"Can you hold him, Sabé?" Obi-Wan asked.

I frowned, looking at him properly for the first time since waking up.

He wasn't holding himself so carefully anymore, or looking polite and distant. But there were bags under his eyes and lines between his brow. And it looked like keeping up with my slow, hobbling pace was challenge.

I shouldn't have fallen asleep. He should have napped while I kept watch. Barely even a day ago, he had been fighting General Grevious on Utapau. Then he had watched as his people were massacred while trying to keep his best friend from going off the deep end. Why had I fallen asleep?

Obi-Wan continued. "I know your arm is injured and you must be tired, but he'll be calmer with you. The only reason children come to the temple when they are this young is if their parents can't handle them. Younglings like him feed off the emotions of the people around him. I'm not—" Obi-Wan swallowed. "I am not good for him right now."

My heart hurt.

"Of course I'll hold him. Of course. Just—" I grimaced. "You two going to be okay for another second or two?"

As if in answer, the baby began to cry. I sped up.

Finally, we reached the hallway, where Wicaté was waiting for us impatiently. Three huge purple velvet bags had been propped up against the wall in the hallway behind her.

She tapped her finger against her armrest impatiently as I leaned back against the wall, so I could put my cane to the side and accept the baby from Obi-Wan.

"Are you done yet?" Wicaté demanded, although she had at least had the courtesy to wait until we actually were done.

"Yes, thank you for your patience," Obi-Wan answered, his polite smile firmly fixed into place.

Wicaté and I both rolled our eyes at him. Wicaté was not worth the effort he was putting in. About half the time, I honestly thought she responded better to rudeness.

Wicaté just said, "You didn't give me a choice. Anyway, I've brought your costumes." She nodded her head at the bags behind her. "So _focus_. We have a time limit. We have about thirteen hours before Saché lands on planet and you need to be in place at least an hour before that. Eirtaé said to allow ten hours for travel time but that's because she's crazy. Six should be more than enough, although I don't think the Galactic Scouts plan will work again. The number of clones on patrol in this area has tripled—you'll have to take multiple trips, Sabé, and Ambassador Kenobi will have to travel on his own. He's far too recognizable to be making the trip more than once. Also, we need holopics of the children. Preferably while they're awake and within the next hour or two. Yané said it would only take her a few minutes to edit and manipulate the holopics needed to sell the story but it's Yané. She can't do half the stuff she thinks she can. We'll also need to brief the children and have them practice their roles. Are they as terrible at acting as they seemed on the way here? Because if so—"

"Wicaté, stop!"

How many moving parts were there to this plan? Costumes? Time limits? _Ten hours_ of travel time?

"Do you think you can give us the overview of the plan before bombarding us with details?"

She huffed loudly, rolled her eyes, and then, with the air of someone doing an immense favor, told me.

Obi-Wan's polite mask slipped away, turning to incredulous disbelief.

"Did you say Eirtaé made this plan? Are you sure?" I demanded, staring at Wicaté in equal disbelief.

"Yes, I'm sure," Wicaté scowled. "Why is everyone questioning me today?"

Because the plan sounded way more like the kind of crazy thing I would come up with. I had expected something a lot subtler and a lot saner from Eirtaé. Something like panic rose in my throat. The baby started to whimper again, and I absentmindedly began to bounce him up and down.

"I don't suppose we have a way of contacting Miss Saché, do we?" Obi-Wan asked, his mask already back in place.

"No," Wicaté said. "She's in hyperspace right now. And when she emerges, she'll be Coruscanti airspace."

I swore.

Wicaté glared. "Don't swear at me. If you had wanted to come up with a plan, you should have stopped congratulating yourself on your escape long enough to do it! You're lucky we're even helping you. Otherwise you'd be sitting here counting down the minutes until the clone patrols searched this place and executed all of us!"

"The clones are searching private property?" All of Obi-Wan's attention focused in on Wicaté.

For a moment, she blinked, looking like she wasn't quite sure what to do with it but, being Wicaté, she rallied quickly.

"What did you think they were going to do? Just sit around and wait quietly for the survivors to find a way to escape the planet? Of course they're searching private property! The only reason you're safe for now is that they're starting with the sectors closest to the Temple and working their way out. Now do you want to hear the rest of the plan or not?"

We heard the rest of the plan.

The poor baby wailed as we went to work on enacting it.

 **Expected Update Time: By Nov 26 hopefully; Dec 17th definitely (one day-one day I will be able to go back to putting only one date down here. It's going to happen someday. Just...not today...)**


	21. Friendship

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 18: Friendship

It took me two trips to purchase our last-minute supplies. And it took six more trips for me to safely ferry all the little Jedi from Wicaté's warehouse to the abandoned one she had found for us at the edges of the Manufacturing District's lower level. I had to take different routes each time and, every time I arrived back at the Fashion District's Couture Circle, I became more and more convinced that the clones were watching me.

So, with each new trip out, my disguises became more elaborate.

By the time Sors, Jewsi and I took the final trip out of Wicaté's warehouse to the abandoned one, my long dark hair had been chopped almost to my earlobes and temporarily dyed pink. I had on heavy eye make-up and was wearing a skimpy little outfit with pants ripped nearly to my hips and a sleeveless shirt that bared my midriff.

I spent the entire journey torn between heart stopping terror of the clones catching us and a desperate, irrational desire to steal a cloak from someone. My disguise was not weather appropriate. It was foggy and I was freezing.

But braving the cold was worth it. People were so busy gaping at my ensemble, Sors's bright blue hair and Jewsi's spiked leather jacket that they barely gave our faces a second glance. Even the clones seemed to immediately dismiss us. As I ushered Sors and Jewsi inside the abandoned warehouse, I had the fleeting hope that maybe Eirtaé's idea about hiding-by-not-hiding might actually work.

As soon as I slid the warehouse door shut behind us, I called out, "Who are we afraid of?"

"Fourteen-year-olds!" came the chorused answer.

Code phrases successfully exchanged, Obi-Wan and a handful of children emerged from behind the huge, empty shelves that filled the warehouse, the rusted metal stretching towards the cavernous ceiling.

Trinna and Shia ran forward, colliding into Jewsi a few steps away from the door, the force of their hug bringing all three girls to the hard floor. Lelila merely nodded at Sors, who nodded back. Zett lowered his lightsaber, looking relieved. I smiled at him and he gave me a half-smile back before doing an about face.

"Is Wicaté still here?" I asked Obi-Wan as I drew even with him.

"Yes. She's in the back, finalizing our disguises. She said she can't stay for much longer, though. Saché should be on planet soon and Wicaté has to attend their secret meeting. She did not sound happy about it."

"No, she wouldn't," I said absently as we fell into step and followed Zett, Shia, Trinna, Jewsi and Lelila towards the back of the warehouse. "Don't suppose I could borrow your cape until she does tell us what to wear? This shirt isn't exactly warm."

Obi-Wan gave me a faint smile as he undid the clasp of his red cape and handed it over. I threw it over my shoulders and basked in the extra layer against my skin.

"The new one should be warmer. The last I overheard, Wicaté was talking to herself about how spacers were the most realistic choice and how unfair it was that space wasn't warmer. Apparently, Wicaté typically visualizes criminals in outfits suited for hot climates."

"Thank the stars that space is cold, then. I don't think I could handle another outfit like this one."

"Does your hair color wash out?"

"Wicaté swore it did, so it better. I don't think pink is really my color."

I stole a glance at Obi-Wan who had a faint smile on his face.

We reached the back of the warehouse, where nearly everything was set-up for Saché's arrival. I shivered at the sight of it.

"I really don't like this," I muttered to Obi-Wan.

"Neither do I. But as far as cover stories go…"

"I know."

Near the back of the warehouse, there were three large shipping crates. Wicaté typically used them to ship her accessories to stores off planet. She had donated them to our cause with a great deal of grumbling. Obi-Wan and the children had then spent the next several hours scrapping off the crates' product numbers and damaging all other methods of tracking or identifying the crates. The last thing we wanted was for them to lead back to Wicaté.

Next to the crates were piles of discarded clothes. Wicaté stood over them, scowling.

"How's it going?" I sidled up to her.

"The next time Palpatine overthrows the government and initiates a massacre," Wicaté said, "I want at least three days' notice. I cannot believe I am being expected to create twelve outfits in this timeframe—you're just lucky I'm the best in my field. That's all I'm telling you. That, and your hair looks atrocious. What did you do? Hack it off with a pair of garden shears?"

"Something like that," I said, touching my hair a little self-consciously. I had used fabric scissors, actually, and it had been done very quickly. Hopefully Rabé would be able to touch it up when we reached Naboo.

"As soon as you get a chance, fix it," Wicaté advised. "It's embarrassing."

"Thanks, Wicaté. But what about the disguises? Are you almost done?"

"I am done. You're welcome. I was just waiting for your little brats to finish with their part before going over it with all of you."

"Thank you," I said belatedly as Wicaté rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. Go check on the children."

I did. They were ready.

"I cannot believe I agreed to this," Wicaté muttered after handing everyone their disguises. Shia, who the baby liked best after me, had been given the little Togruta's outfit and Lelila had taken charge of Meral's. The children had already disappeared amongst the shelving units to change with Obi-Wan close behind them.

"I'm really trying not to think about it," I told her, staring down at the small bag containing my disguise.

"If you get me arrested, Sabé, I will take back all the clothes I've given you and then you'll be stuck wearing those horrors you picked out for yourself."

I stared at her. I reminded myself that she was risking her life to help me. I tried to put a suitably frightened expression on my face.

"In that case, then, I'll make sure to avoid implicating you." Despite my best efforts, a little bit of sarcasm might have slipped through.

"You had better." Wicaté stared at me. Then she said, "I will be remaining on Coruscant."

My brow furrowed. "Okay..."

Obviously, she was staying on Coruscant. Why was she acting like this was news?

Wicaté huffed and rolled her eyes. "You're smuggling Jedi off planet. You're meeting up with Padmé 'probably-forming-a-rebellion-as-we-speak' Amidala. I'm staying. My flag store is here. My workshop is here. My best customers are here. My life is on Coruscant. And if Palpatine shows mercy to traitors, I will eat Kenobi's hat. I like my life. I don't want to lose it."

The world slowed.

Oh.

Wicaté stared at me, her mouth twisted into a firm line and her dark eyes steady. Her posture was impeccable, as always. Wicaté had gone through her entire life absolutely certain of herself. Now wasn't any different even though a small, selfish part of me wished that it was.

"Do you think we'll see each other again?"

"No. I don't," Wicaté said simply. "The Senate cheered when Palpatine declared himself Emperor. You're fighting a losing battle."

I swallowed. "Oh."

"That doesn't mean it isn't a battle worth having, but I won't be fighting in it."

Hot tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and I blinked furiously. I tried to muster up a smile as Wicaté continued to steadily meet my gaze.

"That's fair. Thank you, Wicaté. For everything. I don't—" I stared at her helplessly. "I'll miss you."

"Of course you will. But I belong in the world of fashion, not in the messy world of war. Bloodstains have never enhanced a design and, as much as fashion can sway a war, it hasn't won one yet. Still," she sniffed, "I can guarantee you that Palpatine's supporters will look a great deal worse by the time I'm through with them."

A cracked, somewhat gurgley laugh escaped my mouth. "I have no doubt."

Wicaté gave me a brisk nod and then directed her hoverchair over to the back exit. I trailed behind her, the clack of my cane against the floor sounding deafening.

She hit the doorpad and I blinked rapidly, clutching the bag she'd given me tighter. As the door slip open, she carefully nudged her hoverchair back towards me.

I tried to smile at her, even as a tear escaped. "You know, if you'd have told me the first time we'd met that you'd make me cry someday, this is almost the exact opposite of what I would have pictured."

Wicaté didn't smile at my sorry excuse for a joke. For a long moment, she just stared at me.

Then she said, "Good-bye, Sabé. My life was better for having you in it."

As my mouth fell open, Wicaté spun her hoverchair away and disappeared into the night.

For a long moment, I stared after her, concentrating on breathing slowly and evenly.

"Sabé?"

"Yes?" Slowly, I turned away from the door.

A man—no, _Obi-Wan_ , stood behind me. My eyes widened and, for the second time that day, my mouth fell open.

"Your beard's gone."

A small smile quirked onto Obi-Wan's strangely empty looking face. "Yes. My beard is gone."

"And your hair's black. And—what are you wearing?"

"Apparently 'Ben Wont' likes a lot of different colors." The look on Obi-Wan's face very clearly indicated that, whether or not his cover identity liked it, Obi-Wan himself did not.

"Did Wicaté actually tell you to wear that?" I demanded.

"Yes, she did," Obi-Wan grimaced. "She was very put-out about it, but she said it would be suspicious if all of us looked like we'd been born with an innate sense of fashion. Apparently, I drew the short straw."

He definitely had. The sanest part of his outfit was the wide brimmed and battered brown hat perched on top of his strangely dark hair. His pants were bright orange flight pants that were also painfully baggy. He had messily stuffed the bottom of the pants into a pair of black boots with a shiny silver buckle. His shirt was teal with embroidered yellow flowers around the cuffs and collar, and the ensemble was topped off by a tight purple waistcoat.

"Well, with any luck, everyone will be paying more attention to your clothes than your face?"

"We can only hope," Obi-Wan sighed. "Have you had a chance to change yet?"

I looked down at the bag in my hands. "Uh, no. Not yet."

"You probably should. We may not have much time before Saché shows up."

I grimaced. "Good point. Be back in a bit."

I found an abandoned corner and quickly changed. My outfit, thankfully, was not colorful. However, in its own way, it was as ridiculous as Obi-Wan's. With my disguise, Wicaté had apparently decided to go with the cliché criminal look and give me all black— black pants, shirt, boots, jacket, utility belt and even a black hair ribbon. She had also included two small spray bottles labeled 'dye remover' and 'dye'. The dye remover, thankfully, worked like a dream. Less thankfully, after using the 'dye' bottle, my hair did not become black—instead, it became a frighteningly bright blonde.

Grimacing, I stuffed both bottles back into the small bag Wicaté had given me, and then made my way back to the others. I was the last back. The children had been transformed into dirty little urchins with very poorly kept clothes and faces smudged with grime.

"Well," I smiled as widely as I could, "Is everyone ready?"

Trinna raised her hand.

My smile grew a little more real. "Yes, Trinna?"

"What do I say if they ask me questions? Are they going to ask me questions?"

"Ideally," I said, "it will just be my friend, Saché, arriving and you won't be asked any questions at all. But, if things turn out less than ideal, and you are questioned, just keep repeating that you want to go home and that you miss your parents. If you feel like crying because you're frightened, that's actually a good thing and you should go ahead and do it. Make sense?"

Trinna looked worried, but nodded.

"Good. It will all be fine, everyone, okay?" My voice came out surprisingly strong, considering my many, many, _many_ concerns regarding this plan.

"Miss Sabé? What if the baby starts to cry?" Shia asked, looking worriedly down at the little Togruta in her arms.

"That would actually be helpful," I reassured her. "You can certainly try to calm him, but don't feel too bad if you can't. I know he's had a rough time of it, but I promise that a little more crying won't hurt him."

Shia looked doubtful, but nodded.

"What about Adan's leg? Will it really be okay?" Tobe stared down worriedly at the brown stained bandage wrapped around Adan's leg.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said confidently. "He has sterile bandages against the wound and the false bandage only looks unclean. I promise that wearing the bandage is just as safe as wearing his own clothes."

Tobe looked doubtful, but Adan nudged him in the side and he stayed quiet.

"Any other questions?" I asked.

The children exchanged looks but said nothing.

I smiled brightly. "Right! Then, places, I suppose?"

With some difficulty, we got all the children evenly divided and placed in the boxes. Once we were sure everyone was comfortable, Obi-Wan and I very carefully shut them in.

"Let us know if anything goes wrong, okay?" I called through the biggest of the three crates.

"We will!" Zett called back, his voice muffled but still understandable.

Obi-Wan and I exchanged glances, but didn't say anything. We settled into wait. Sitting with my back against the smallest crate, I tried to keep my mind blank and empty. There were a lot of things I didn't want to think about. I began counting my heartbeats.

Around the time I had lost count four times and was just about to give up, there was a small rattling noise. I tensed. A second small rattling noise. I turned towards Obi-Wan, who was already looking at me. A third small rattling noise. Something had gone wrong. Obi-Wan smiled tightly and then, with one more breath, slouched back against the largest crate and tipped his hat forward a little, to cover more of his face.

"Terrible weather we're having, Satty," Obi-Wan drawled, using my terrible cover name.

I stared at him. The weather, really? Obi-Wan slanted me a look. Resolutely ignoring the way my heart rate had picked up, I turned my attention towards the topic of conversation.

"Yeah. Fog's awful," I said.

"Thought Coruscant was supposed to be temperature controlled."

"Don't know." This was a terrible conversation. We were terrible at making fake small talk. No one was ever going to believe this. We were going to—I forced myself to look back at Obi-Wan.

"I thought it was," Obi-Wan said. "Maybe the controller is broken."

"Could be, I guess. That, or the people here like fog," I suggested.

Obi-Wan gave me another look under the brim of his hat. I couldn't quite tell for sure, but he did not seem very impressed with my response. But it wasn't really like he was giving me a lot to work with here! I clenched my hands tightly in my lap.

"It's possible," I said defensively. "You don't know! Lots of people like lots of weird things."

"Ain't that the truth," Obi-Wan said.

'Ain't'? This conversation had better get interrupted soon.

"So, think we'll be able to find a ship?" I changed the subject to something a little less terrible, trying to ignore the slight shake in my voice

"Don't see why not. I got the name of that place that—"

"Freeze!" Saché's familiar voice rang through the warehouse. "Hands where I can see them, scum! You're surrounded!"

My hands flew into the air. "I surrender!"

Obi-Wan, who had been reaching towards his newly purchased blaster, stopped to stare at me. I couldn't stop my brow from furrowing slightly. What?

"No!" Obi-Wan called back, "We do not surrender! We haven't even done anything wrong!"

I felt my face heat up a little. Whoops. I lowered my hands.

"Er, right!" I hurriedly agreed. "Definitely haven't done anything wrong!"

Three peace officers edged around the shelving units into view, their blasters trained on us. Just then, Obi-Wan must have done his little Force nudge thing to the children, as they immediately began to put up a racket.

The crates began to shake a little bit as loud, but confused and muffled words made their way through the metal.

"Nothing wrong, eh?" Saché demanded from somewhere behind me. "Then you aren't a part of a child smuggling ring? You don't have kidnapped children in those boxes?"

"Definitely not!" Obi-Wan sounded outraged.

I looked at him, felt the crates rattle behind my back, saw the furious looks on the peace officers' faces and tried to stop my own hands from trembling. Yeah, no. I was not dragging this out.

"Okay, actually, on second thought, I do surrender. For real, this time." I raised my hands back in the air. "And I promise to cooperate fully with the law and tell you everything I know about everything."

Obi-Wan stared at me again. "Really, Satty?" he placed extra emphasis on my name as if trying to remind me that I was playing a role.

I narrowed my eyes at him, to let him know that 1) I knew that and 2) this was a perfectly legitimate role to play.

"Really, Ben. I am not cut out for prison. You'll do well there, though."

Obi-Wan just kept staring at me.

I cleared my throat and looked around.

The peace officers still had their blasters pointed at us but were being a little bit less definite about it now. In fact, they looked kind of confused.

"Uh, can I stand up?" I asked them.

"No!" Saché barked. "And keep your hands where we can see them! Ben Wont, your worthless partner has flipped on you! Surrender now or we will shoot!"

Obi-Wan growled. "Fine! I surrender!" Obi-Wan's hands slowly rose into the air.

Heels clicked sharply across the floor, rising even above the racket the children were continuing to make. I craned my neck around to see Saché stride towards Obi-Wan. Looming above him, she flicked her sliver binding cuffs into position, clicking it around one wrist before forcing both it and his other arm behind his back. As the binding cuffs snapped into position, she hooked her hand under his armpit.

"To your feet, monster," she growled.

Obi-Wan rose to his feet, listing towards her in an over dramatized move that might have been intended as a stumble. I tried not to wince.

"Officer Mune!" Saché snapped. "Hold him!"

The middle peace officer, a tiny, dark skinned human man hurried forward to take her place. Once he was standing behind Obi-Wan and looking important, Saché strode over to me. She grabbed my wrist and exerted a gentle pressure. I let my arm fall in a hurry and grimaced, trying to make it look like she'd forced it down. We did the same thing with the other hand as her second set of binding cuffs snapped into place.

"Stand up," she ordered sharply.

"Um, sorry, ma'am, but I can't," I said. "I, uh," I nodded my head towards my cane, now divested of its ribbons, where it lay on the ground next to me.

"Officer Moonway! Grab the cane. I'll take this one myself." Saché grabbed me under both arms.

With her help, I struggled to my feet, trying not to hiss loudly when my weight unexpectedly shifted more towards my bad side. After what felt like several lifetimes, we were situated, with the second officer holding my cane.

"Officer Hetílí," Saché ordered the final peace officer, "Let those poor children out, will you?"

"Yes, ma'am!" the Rodian agreed with alacrity. He stowed his blaster and hurried over towards the crates as Officer Mune and Saché hauled Obi-Wan and I away from them.

"There could be as many of twenty of them," Saché said as Hetílí struggled to pry the crate open. "These two went on a kidnapping spree in Alderaan that would blow your mind. I only hope they didn't sell too many of them, but you never know with scum like this, do you?" Saché shook me carefully and I obligingly grimaced and overexaggerated my shake as best as I could.

Officer Hetílí finally opened the first crate. Trinna's messy head immediately popped above the top of the crate.

"I want to go home!" she shouted, before promptly bursting into tears.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Saché steal a glance in my direction, her eyebrow rising. I gave her a minuscule shrug as Tobe and Adan's heads also appeared.

"I miss my parents," Tobe said very carefully as Trinna continued to sob besides him. "And Adan's leg is hurt. Please be careful when you take him out."

With effort, I kept from wincing. I was too afraid to even look at what Obi-Wan's reaction might be. In front of me, the officer stared at the little Jedi in bewilderment.

"Only you, Sabé," Saché breathed, as if this circus was somehow my fault. "Only you."

 **Expected Update Time: Jan 21st (or Feb 11th)**


	22. Arrest

**A/N: This website hates me, ahahaha. It took me forever to figure out how to get this chapter up because doc manager wouldn't let me upload or copy and paste. Grr... So, I'm going to partially blame the website for why it took me so long to get this up (although, honestly? it's mainly because my life is crazy busy right now :( sorry guys) But! Also! I had an awful lot of people add Galaxy to alerts this month (thanks you guys!) and, because I am endlessly curious (coughnosycough)-does anyone know why this might be? Was there like a recommendation that popped up somewhere or-like-I don't know, was it just a good month to read about handmaidens? Obviously, don't feel obligated to answer-I'm just really really curious!  
**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 19: Arrest

It felt like it took the peace officers several lifetimes to get all the children out of the crates. On the positive side of things, all the children did re-appear from the boxes looking relatively unscathed. Unfortunately, that was about the only positive thing I could say about the situation.

Despite the fact that the little Jedi were physically unhurt, their time in the crates had obviously unnerved quite a few of them. Adan stayed so close to Tobe's side that it looked as though they had been glued together. Shia trembled like a leaf and the baby, obviously sensing her distress, whimpered endlessly. Trinna continued to sob and showed no signs of slowing or stopping any time soon. Jewsi, noticing her friend's distress immediately upon exiting her box, had scrambled to the warehouse floor, darted past the peace officers and stationed herself directly in front of Trinna, scowling fiercely at any officers who attempted to approach. This only served to further confuse the already confused officers.

Zett, delightfully quick on the uptake, seemed to realize this almost immediately. With Meral safely tucked against his side, Zett had first tried to talk Jewsi down. Personally, I wished that he had stuck with that route. As it was, when Jewsi just turned her glare on him instead of the officers, the go-getter had decided to get creative. He cornered Officer Moonway and began waxing eloquently all about how he knew 'Juedi' from the slums of Alderaan (did Alderaan even have slums?) and how poor 'Juedi' had learned to fear peace officers as people who could take her parents off to jail, which had given her a skewed sense of something or other and—honestly, he lost me pretty early, even before he started talking earnestly about 'the cyclical nature of distrust and violence'.

Officer Hetílí was canny enough to avoid being trapped by Zett. That left him to attempt to conduct interviews with the other children. Shia had stuttered at him so severely and so incoherently that he had quickly given up on her. Tobe and Adan, neither particularly good nor clever improvisers, had only mechanically repeated over and over again that they missed their parents and wanted to go home. Jewsi glared at him ferociously and effectively blocked him from accessing Trinna, who, had he been able to talk to her, likely would have only cried at him anyway.

That left him with Sors and Lelila. The two children, Jedi to their very core, remained wholly unflappable and calmly answered all of his questions. Too calmly, probably. By the time their interview was done, Officer Hetílí looked thoroughly unnerved.

Officer Mune and Saché kept watch on Obi-Wan and me. Officer Mune said nothing but still made it perfectly clear that he thought Obi-Wan and I ought to be blasted where we stood.

Saché did her best to hurry the situation along, continually reminding all and sundry that this case fell under the jurisdiction of the Alderaanians, that she was in charge of transporting both the prisoners and the children to Alderaan, and that she was not getting paid by the hour, so she'd appreciate it if "everyone would shut their traps and get a move on already! There are four more bounties on my to-do list and at least two other hunters competing for them! Time is money, gentlemen—so stop lollygagging around!"

Eventually, once Officer Hetílí had finished asking all of his questions and Officer Moonway had successfully extracted himself from Zett's lecture, the two peace officers told Saché they'd meet her at her landing platform.

"Come on children, let's get you home," Officer Moonway said with a big smile.

The little Jedi exchanged glances.

"What do you mean?" Sors asked.

Officer Moonway's smile slipped a little before he hitched it back into position. "I mean we're going to get you back to your parents! Officer Hetílí and I have transports in the back and we're going to take you to the ship to get you home."

"Ship? What ship? And what do you mean by home?" Jewsi demanded.

"What about Sab—Satty? And Ben? Are they coming too?" Lelila asked.

"They won't hurt you anymore, I promise," Officer Hetílí said in what I'm sure he thought were soothing tones.

"You can't take us away." Jewsi's hands clenched into fists as she took a step forward. "I won't let you!"

Officer Moonway, perhaps feeling like he ought to put Zett's lecture to good use, stepped towards her, his hands held up placatingly. "We're not taking you far. Just safely transporting you to the landing platform so Ms. Menacham can return you to your parents. I promise, we aren't like the Alderaanian peace officers—there is nothing violent about any of us."

Jewsi's scowl darkened. "I'm not going anywhere and neither are my cla—friends."

Her pronouncement was met with silence. I wasn't quite sure what Jewsi had been going to say instead of 'friends', but I winged a prayer up to any gods that might be listening that no one would ask. As I prayed, Officer Moonway turned to look hopefully at Zett. But, to my surprise, he remained silent, seemingly agreeing with Jewsi. Sors and Lelila, my next best hope, were nodding at Jewsi. The other children, except the still crying Trinna, remained quiet. Doing my best to stop my brow from furrowing, I tried to catch one of the children's eye without catching the attention of the peace officers.

I failed.

How could I let the children know that they had to go with the peace officers if we were going to get off Coruscant? What could I say that would convince them that it was going to be fine? I wracked my brains furiously but no words came to mind.

Finally, Saché made an impatient noise. "We don't have time for this." She strode forward, towards the children. "Look, everyone, you don't actually have much of a choice. I know things haven't been easy for you lately. I know you're scared. But it doesn't matter. We have to get you off planet. To Alderaan," she added, almost as afterthought. "So you're just going to have to be scared. Here's the only choice you have: I can take you to the landing platform and the peace officers can take your kidnappers. Or the peace officers can take you to the landing platform and I can take your kidnappers. Either way, we're getting you to the landing platform and, either way, we're doing it now. So what's it going to be, huh?"

There was another beat of silence, where the little Jedi exchanged glances.

Then Sors said, "We'll go with you."

"Fine," Saché said. "Officer Hetílí, you're with me. Moonway, Mune, you have the prisoners. And if either of you even think of arresting them instead of letting me collect my bounty or if they have even one scratch on them that I'm going to have to explain to the Alderaanian officials, I will make you regret it." She took a moment to fix each of the officers with a fierce glare. Then, she turned back towards the children and gave a sharp jerk of her head. "Come on, troublemakers. My transport's this way and it's going to be a tight fit."

Saché strode off, without waiting to see if anyone was following.

The children shifted nervously. Then, finally, Zett threw a glance at Obi-Wan. Sors, Jewsi, Lelila and Tobe looked my way. I gave them the tiniest nod I could and, presumably, Obi-Wan did the same. Slowly, the children huddled in closer to one another and shuffled after Saché with Officer Hetílí taking up the rear. After what felt like lifetimes, they disappeared, leaving Obi-Wan and I alone with Moonway and Mune.

"You monsters sure did a number on those poor kids," Mune growled.

"Yeah, yeah." I turned to see Obi-Wan giving the officers an enormous eye-roll, which, seeing as our fates were now in their hands, did not seem overly wise. "Can we get on with this?"

Officer Mune turned to Moonway. "Are you sure we can't just read them their rights and arrest them?"

"Menacham only let us come along because the Captain made her. If we try and arrest her prisoners out from under her, she'll be a lot more uncooperative in the future. And she's already hard to work with," Moonway said.

Officer Mune made a disgusted noise. "Fine. Then, Moonway, you have the woman; I'll take this piece of work." He gave Obi-Wan a sharp shake.

Moonway grabbed my left arm and pulled. My weight shifted alarmingly towards my bad leg. With a quick jerk of my own to the right, I managed to keep my balance.

"What the-?" Moonway glared at me. "Thought you said you'd come quietly?"

Oh no. Hurriedly, I opened my mouth to explain. But before I could, he pulled harder on my left arm. My weight shifted onto my left leg. As if in slow motion, I felt it buckle.

Someone nearby swore loudly and something hard jammed under my armpits, preventing me from hitting the floor.

My leg screamed at me, refusing to hold my weight. I blinked tears back furiously, as my good leg scrambled for purchase on the hard floor.

"—has a bad leg, you morons! Help her up, for star's sake!"

"Don't you tell Officer Moonway what to do, scum!"

"Here." Moonway, whose hands were wrapped under my arms and around my shoulders, gently pulled me up.

"To the right; help me shift to the right," I panted.

Carefully, Moonway did as I asked.

My left leg continued to throb harshly as I kept as much of my weight as I could on my right left.

"Forgot you had a cane," Moonway said.

"Obviously." Obi-Wan's voice was cold as ice. He was off to my side somewhere and I didn't want to risk turning my head or, really moving at all. I had finally gotten myself back into a solid standing position. I was not ready to risk losing my balance.

"Okay. So." I tried to catch my breath. "I understand you want to keep me in binders but my leg is really not liking me at the moment. So, uh, any ideas on how we should do this?"

There was another moment of quiet. I tried to slant my eyes to side to see what was happening, but everyone else was too far behind me. So, instead, I stared at the metal shelves straight ahead of me and focused on breathing deep. Anything to help manage the pain still coursing through me. My stretches and massage would likely help to some extent, but I was definitely not about to ask the officers if they would let me pause to take care of my leg. I was pretty sure I already knew their answer and, even if they did surprise me, the sooner Obi-Wan and I got to Saché's ship, the better. I was so done with this planet.

Finally, Moonway said, "Here, do you think if I put my arm here, you can use it like your cane?"

Moonway got into position. Carefully, I placed weight into his arm and tried to take a step.

Needles shot up my calf into my thigh, but I stayed upright.

"Good enough, thanks."

Mune pushed Obi-Wan forward, finally bringing him into sight. Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder at me as Mune forged quickly ahead. His brow was furrowed and his eyes lingered on my bad leg. The last thing I wanted to do was smile, but, once Obi-Wan looked back up at my face, I tried to muster one anyway as I gave him as reassuring of a nod as I could manage. I was fine. Or, at the very least, as fine as I could be while trying to outmaneuver an army with practically no sleep and a leg that hated me. There was nothing he could do to help, so there was no need for him to worry. However, when I smiled, his face only darkened further.

Before I could try and figure out what went wrong, my foot caught on the threshold leading outside the warehouse. By the time Moonway and I managed to get re-situated and my leg calmed down enough to allow me to concentrate on something else, Obi-Wan and Mune had already disappeared into the back of one of the Officer's transports.

I started to head towards the transport Obi-Wan was sitting it.

"Hold it there, blondie," Moonway said.

Feeling decently certain of my balance at the moment, I stopped walking and craned my neck to stare at him. Blondie? Who was he—oh. Right. Hair-dye. That was me.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"We're not stupid enough to put you together. Menacham told us you two were sneaky. Mune's taking Wont. I'm taking you. And we're headed there." Moonway pointed to the transport slightly beyond the one Mune and Obi-Wan were in.

My stomach flipped. This felt wrong. What if something happened? What if Obi-Wan needed back-up? What if—? Suddenly, I felt a massive wave of sympathy for the little Jedi.

"Right." I tore my gaze away from Obi-Wan and re-focused on the ground in front of me.

Moonway and I made it to his transport without any more difficulties. He helped me into the transport and slammed the door after me. A blue forcefield separated me from the front seat. As Moonway circled around, the only sound in the transport was a soft buzzing.

Moonway opened his own door and slid into the pilot seat, depositing my cane in the seat next to him. I heard nothing when he pulled his door shut. Moonway fiddled with the controls and, again, I heard nothing but the hum of the forcefield.

My stomach roiled. Great. This was just great. But there was nothing I could do now, I reminded myself. I could only trust the plan. At this point, it would either work or it wouldn't. Nothing I could do would change anything. I could, though, try and help my leg. My hands were still in binders so massage was out but I slowly began to stretch my leg out as best I could in the transport. Luckily, it seemed to be one of the vehicles peace officers typically utilized when transporting multiple prisoners. It wasn't perfect, by any means, but it definitely could have been worse. It could have, for example, been a Naboo peace transport, which didn't have any windows in the back. Also, Moonway could have used the shackles on the floor. As far as first 'arrests' went, I reminded myself, it wasn't totally terrible.

Then, I lost myself in concentration, hissing occasionally when my leg moved the wrong way or bumped into something. By the time I finished doing what I could, given the situation, the pain did ease a little, although not as much as I would have hoped.

With that done, I turned my attention to the skyways. I reared back, my heart racing in my chest, when I realized where we were.

Directly to my left, barely a mile away, the Jedi Temple loomed over us. A small strangled noise escaped before I could stop it. We were back in the Legislative District. Why were we back in the Legislative District? And how could the Temple look exactly like it had a week ago? How was the damage not visible? Now that the smoke had stopped pouring out of it, the ancient structure looked exactly like it always had. Staring at it from the window of the transport, I almost couldn't believe that, not even three days ago, I had been inside watching as the Jedi were slaughtered.

I drew in a shaky breath, trying to convince myself to look away. The longer I stared at it, the more it felt as though these last few days were nothing more than a nightmare. The Temple still stood. So how could the Jedi have fallen? How could this be—?

My transport jerked off the skyway, angling sideways. My eyes snapped forward. My heart stopped.

Obi-Wan's transport, which had been flying in front of us since we left the warehouse, was flanked by two clone transport ships and was being escorted to a small parking platform. My mouth was as dry as bone as my head whipped around behind me. And—sure enough—two more grey clone transports followed my own ship.

I spun back around.

"Hey! Hey, Moonway! What's going on? Why are _clones_ pulling us over? Moonway!"

Moonway—either unable to hear me or uninterested in answering—ignored me as he gently landed us on the parking platform.

In front of us, six clones had already exited their transports and were striding forward to meet Officer Mune, who was waiting for them in front of Obi-Wan's back window.

"Moonway, seriously, what's happening? Please!"

Moonway just soundlessly opened his door and stepped outside.

Do not puke, Sabé. Do not puke.

Clones marched past my window, close enough I could have touched them if the windows had been opened. Their armor was impeccably white.

Maybe Saché hadn't actually locked the binders. If I could get my hands free, maybe I could break the force field and highjack the transport. Maybe I could—I tugged at my wrists.

The binders held.

Outside the transport, Moonway and Mune stood facing the clones. Inside the transport, I was trapped.

 **Expected Update Time: Trying for before March 4th ; definitely before March 18th**


	23. Panicking

**A/N:** ** **Thanks for sticking with me through the update waits, guys. Appreciate it! Also,** I don't normally answer guest reviews, but there was a very nice one left with a specific question, so, a general answer: If anyone ever wants to make anything based on what I've written, I think that's awesome and incredibly flattering! Go for it! Just if you ever decide to post it anywhere, please let me know so I can check it out! :D  
**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 20: Panicking

Torn between the impulse to hide between the seats or to press up against the window in hopes of hearing something, I remained frozen in the back of the transport. Through the force field and the front window, I could just barely make out Moonway and Mune facing me, towards the clones. Mune looked impatient. Moonway's brow was furrowed. The clones weren't in view but I doubted I could have figured out what they were thinking, even if they were.

After a long moment that I spent trying to slow my breathing, Mune rolled his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and said something to the clones. Whatever the clones said next, got Mune scowling. Moonway's brow furrowed even further as he responded.

Against my will, my breathing quickened. What was going on?

The clones had their backs to me, and their posture was perfect as they spoke with the peace officers. There were fourteen of them and all of them were armed. There was no way I could beat fourteen armed clones. Obi-Wan maybe could, in normal circumstances, but he didn't have his lightsaber, his wrists were bound, and he was locked in a transport. If I could somehow distract them while he got his hands free—but how could I distract them?

Mune threw his hands up in the air and spun around, stalking away from the clones as his hands settled down on his head. Moonway sent his partner a dark look before pasting a smile on his face and saying something.

My heart sped up. Was it good or bad that Mune was so upset? What were the clones saying?

A moment later, Mune whirled back around, scowling furiously. Moonway said something. The clones did an about face. Abruptly, I realized that my nose was almost touching the plexiglass window. I flung myself back against the seat, pressing my head firmly into the headrest and starting straight ahead. I tried to picture a tall height, a beautiful drop. The view from the council chambers filled my head before the chamber began to fill with dead bodies in my mind and—No. I gave my head a sharp shake. I tried to think of the garden at the Theed palace, with its flowers and stone railing and how I might never see it again if this went wrong and on second thought this was a terrible idea. Instead, slowly, I counted to five, breathing in, and then to five again, breathing out. I tried to focus on my breathing and ignore the flashes of white in my peripheral vision.

There was no way I could distract the clones. There was no way I could overpower the clones. There was no way I could do anything at all except die and—I went back to counting to five while I breathed and stared at the grey sky.

Then, a thatch of red hair and an ugly green hat obscured my vision out the front window.

Moonway. He fiddled with the console for a minute. I leaned to the side, peering past his head. In front of us, Obi-Wan's transport took off, the two clone ships following closely behind.

"Officer Moonway! What's all this about?" I hurriedly leaned forward, peering through the force field at him. He seemed oblivious to me as the transport slowly lifted up and took off after the clones. I craned my neck behind me, to watch two more grey transports take off from the parking platform, following close behind us.

"Officer. Officer. Officer!"

He ignored me.

Huffing, I flopped back into my seat, glaring at his hair and his stupid cap. Now what? The clones were still following us but at least they hadn't talked to Obi-Wan and me? That was good, right? Or was it bad? Did it mean they already knew who we were and didn't want to tip us off? Or—I clamped my thoughts down. This wasn't helping any. And I had no idea where Saché had landed her ship or where the clones' current base of operations were. I had no idea what Mune and Moonway thought of the clones' plan—whatever said plan was—or what they thought of the Jedi. Maybe they didn't believe the propaganda and would be willing to help us out? After all, four against sixteen were better odds than two against sixteen. But even if they didn't believe the propaganda….

I tried to shut my thoughts down and focus on breathing. I failed miserably. By the time Obi-Wan's transport veered towards a large landing platform, I had concocted and discarded over seventeen different plans, each as terrible as the last. Just as I was debating the merits of pretending to have a seizure, I caught sight of the _Hidden Queen_ , Saché's ship, perched at the far edge of the platform.

The modified Nubian yacht looked as strange as ever. Its base design was all sleek lines and gleaming chrome. The added canons and lasers were boxy and varying shades of worn out grey. As usual, the extra engines Saché had added on made the ship itself look tiny.

But all six of its engines were lit up and running. And as Moonway swung the transport up and out to the side in order to better line up his own landing, I saw Saché herself standing in front of her ship, hands on her hips and face tilted towards the sky. Her dark braid fluttered in the wind. My heart slowed, and I allowed myself a deep breath. Then, she disappeared behind the dark grey durasteel of a clone transport. Moonway landed on the platform, directly behind Mune's transport, with clone ships flanking us on all sides.

I forced myself to take another long, slow breath. I was halfway through letting it out again when the buzzing briefly increased and then died. My eyes snapped to Moonway. The force field between us was gone.

"Anyone ever tell you that you look like Senator Amidala?" Moonway asked, his head bent over the console.

My breath caught in my throat.

Then, I forced a laugh. "You think so? Sweet of you to say, officer."

"No one's seen her since the Jedi revolted. She didn't attend the emergency session of the Senate."

"Yeah, well—" My mind raced. "She always did seem pretty cozy with them, didn't she?" I aimed for amused. I wasn't sure I hit my target.

"Your partner looks ridiculous. Is he colorblind?"

"What? Is he—I don't know? It never really came up?"

"Hmm." Moonway reached across the console to flick a small green button but otherwise stayed quiet.

This was my chance to ask about the clones. But my heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest.

"And that bounty hunter," Moonway finally continued, as if he'd never stopped, "Very dedicated, coming to Coruscant so soon after the Emperor's coronation. She looks a lot like Senator Amidala too, doesn't she?"

My heart stopped. And I forced my mouth to move. "You fancy the Senator or something? 'Cause I got to say, you seem to have a weird fixation on her, you know? No offense or anything, of course, we've all got our own tastes, but it seems like maybe it's interfering with your work so, you, uh, you maybe want to think about—"

"My wife's Naboo. She lost her whole family in the Invasion," and he didn't specify, which he wouldn't because, to us, to the Naboo, there was only the one, "and moved to Coruscant shortly after. That's when I met her. She doesn't say much about her home world. But she gets fierce about the Senator. And once, when I said the Senator had poor security, she laughed and asked me what I thought her pretty, little attendants were. Then she said it didn't matter anyway, because the Senator could look after herself."

He glanced over his shoulder as he undid his safety belt. I could do nothing but stare at him.

He grabbed my cane from the seat next to him as he said, "I have four children. I hope my wife's right." His door opened and he stepped out.

Then my door opened and he reached inside.

"Come on, prisoner, out you get."

His grip was strong but careful. I got out of the transport with no further injury to my leg. The wind was cooler than usual on Coruscant. Moonway and I took two steps before four clone troopers materialized around us.

"Gentleman," Moonway said evenly, continuing to pull me along.

"Officer." I couldn't tell what clone responded. But his voice was cold and mechanical. I shivered and tried hard not to hunch in on myself.

I made myself throw a curious glance at them, even though I wanted nothing more than to ignore their existence. After all, Satty the cowardly child trafficker had not heard them commit mass murder or seen them try to hunt down children. And even if she had, Satty probably would not care.

Still, one look was enough. After staring long enough to hopefully seem appropriately curious and wary, I allowed my gaze to snap back towards the front. Four more clones surrounded Obi-Wan and Mune as the other peace officer marched Obi-Wan out from underneath the shadow of the clones' transports.

Moonway and I followed. I tried to glance off the edge of the landing platform, tried to conjure the feeling of smallness and peace that typically accompanied me in high places. The clones took a step closer to me, their white armor blocking the view.

"—is that supposed to mean? I have the permit, I have the bounty, I have the clearance, and you have no right at all to do anything!" Saché's voice rang across the platform.

Moonway and I had cleared the clone transports. In front of us, Obi-Wan, Mune and their entourage had come to a stop a stone's throw away from the _Hidden Queen_. In front of them, four clones attempted to stare down Saché.

They weren't having much luck. Saché may have barely reached their shoulders but she was scowling at them like she was triple their height.

"Standard procedure, ma'am. We have to—"

"Standard procedure? Since when?" she snapped.

"Since the Jedi Rebellion."

The words felt like a kick to my stomach, but Saché didn't even seem to register them.

"Have you got that new procedure in writing somewhere? Or a warrant? Or anything at all that backs up your claim? For all I know, you could be some low-life scum who stole clone armor and want to steal my ship!"

"Seriously?" one the clones muttered.

Saché, apparently no more able to pinpoint who said it then I was, glared at all of them indiscriminately.

"Yes, seriously! Show me the order and I'll let you search my ship." She cocked her hip and raised her eyebrows.

One of the clones—probably the one who made the snarky comment—sighed loudly. The clone nearest the front jerked his head and a clone near the back did an about face and marched back to one of their ships

"These are the prisoners," Mune snarled as the second clone marched past him. "Can me and my partner leave? Believe it or not, we do have other things to deal with right now."

"Have you verified their identities?" The clone nearest the front turned to look at Mune. Presumably. It was hard to tell anything for sure with the masks.

"Yes," Mune growled. "Sent the info to that datapad connection, like you demanded. Can we turn them over to the bounty hunter and—"

"Not until the ship is thoroughly searched."

"Oh, come on!" Saché threw her hands in the air. "This was not the only bounty on my to-do list!"

"The sooner you let us search your ship, ma'am, the sooner you can get your next bounty."

"Can we turn them over to you, then?" Mune pressed.

"CT-1623, verify the information."

A third clone revealed a datapad and began to tap at it.

Verify…? Oh no. Yané had been in charge of creating the false identities and the false bounty. And she had never, ever done it before. Yané, while a genius, did not typically do brilliantly at things she had never, ever done before. Nearly half of the time, actually, explosions were involved.

I tried to catch Saché's eye but she was too busy glaring at the clones. Obi-Wan's back was to me. But Obi-Wan had the Force. And, honestly, I still didn't totally understand how the Force worked but maybe if I thought at him really hard… _Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, Yané made our identities. Obi-Wan. There is nothing to verify—we need an escape route. Obi-Wan! Come on!_

The so-called Jedi Master didn't so much as twitch. I tried not to slump or glare at his back too obviously. The clone returned from the transport with a small holoprojector in hand. He strode right up to Saché.

Then, a tinny recorded voice floated across the platform. "Decree 12. By order of the Emperor, all public buildings, personal residences, transports, and ships are subject to searches at the discretion of the Clone Army to ensure the safety, peace and stability of the new Galactic Emperor."

"As you see, ma'am, we will be searching your ship."

Saché growled.

"Fine. Fine! Of all the stupid…" she trailed into a loud, angry huff. "Let me get the children so you don't upset them too much. Then fine! Search to your heart's content. Waste your time. Waste my time. Make me lose three thousand credits to that waste of space who dares…" Saché's grumbles faded away as she stomped up the ramp of the Hidden Queen.

The clone looking at the datapad re-attached it to his belt and followed his three fellows up the ramp. Several minutes later, Saché reappeared.

"Well, come on. Onto the platform." She stood to the side of the door and waved her arm down the ramp. When nothing happened, she reached an arm back inside the ship. Moments later, she dragged Tobe out and gave him a small push down the ramp. Adan, of course, was hot on his heels. Zett followed only seconds later, practically running to overtake Tobe.

The rest of the children filtered out after him. Zett firmly ushered them off to the left of the ramp and planted himself between them and the rest of us. Sors and Lelila flanked him, with identically intense looks on their faces. Tears silently streamed down Trinna's face as she and Shia huddled around Jewsi whose arms were wrapped fiercely around the whimpering infant. The toddler, Meral, clung stubbornly to Zett's leg, despite his increasingly less subtle attempts to shake her off.

Moonway's grip on my arm tightened painfully for a second before loosening. But I ignored it. The urge to rush over to the children and place myself between Zett and the clones was nearly overwhelming. But I forced myself to stay still and keep breathing. I was supposed to be their kidnapper. Trying to protect them would be incredibly out of character.

Besides, I thought as I made myself look again at the clones surrounding us, the clones didn't seem to be even slightly interested in the little Jedi. As near as I could tell, their attention was neatly split between the ship, and Obi-Wan and myself.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Mune groused. "Can we leave? There's eight of you to two of them. I think you've got this covered."

The clones exchanged looks.

Then one of them said, "You are dismissed, officers. Prisoners, if you try to escape, we will kill you."

Moonway was slow in letting go of my arm, his hand hovering for a second above my elbow before finally pulling away. Slowly, I glanced over my shoulder.

But he wasn't looking at me. Instead, he was staring at the children with a small crease between his eyebrows. Still, when two clones approached him, he turned away from the children and instead held my cane out to the clones. "This is hers. She's got a bum leg."

After a small hesitation, one of the clones took it. Then, as the other one grabbed the crook of my elbow, Moonway turned around and walked away without another word.

Mune, cursing under his breath, hurried to follow.

In front of me, two clones held tight to Obi-Wan's arms. Two more stood at my back. But only one of them grabbed onto me. His white armored hand was cold, even though my black jumpsuit.

I tried to focus on breathing. The wind gusted past, rustling my short hair strangely against the back of my neck. My hands were slick with sweat and my heartbeat was not slow or steady.

The clones didn't move. The children huddled even closer together, with Zett standing strong and stubborn in front of them. Saché, after a quick look at all of us, disappeared back into the ship.

I counted to five, breathed in, counted to five, breathed out.

Several lifetimes passed.

Four clones filed off the ship, Saché close on their heels.

"The ship is clear," A clone said.

"I know that, you nerfherderer! Now can I take my prisoners and their victims so I can collect my bounty?" There was a long pause. Then, Saché added a scathing, " _Please."_

There was a small pause before a clone said, "You are free to go. Do you need assistance with loading your prisoners?"

"Obviously! For stars' sake…"

The clone at my back pushed me forward. Sharp pain lanced up my leg. Through the searing heat and the white encroaching on my vision, I vaguely thought it was probably not a good sign that I was almost getting used to the rush of pain.

"She needs help to walk. You have to support her," Obi-Wan's voice, sounding strangely slow, pierced the fog.

"What?" the clone at my back said.

Someone made an impatient noise. A small, warm hand grabbed my other arm. I blinked furiously, trying to beat back the white.

"I got this one. Just worry about the other one."

I blinked again and then glanced to my side.

"Lean against my arm. And the quicker the better!" Saché said, her furrowed brow and frowning mouth belied by the worry in her eyes.

I attempted a wan smile. "Aye aye, ma'am."

"And no insubordination!"

With Saché's help, I made it up the ramp. Instead of being led to the cockpit, where I usually spent my time in Saché's ship, she dragged me to the lower level, following the same instructions she shouted to the clones escorting Obi-Wan. Finally, we reached the brig.

Obi-Wan was unceremoniously tossed inside the largest cell. Saché gave me a small shove into the cell across from his. I stumbled inside and almost immediately lowered myself to the ground.

Saché left without a second glance, still barking orders at the clones. I immediately began stretching my bad leg, silently bemoaning the fact that my hands were still in binders even as I did my best to stifle a groan as my leg made its frustration with me known, yet again. I tried not to think about anything else.

"Are you okay, Satty?" Obi-Wan asked quietly as Saché's voice faded away.

I laughed a little breathlessly through the pain. "I don't know. Ask me in a few minutes."

Obi-Wan fell quiet.

There was a soft lurch and the ship began to move.

 **Expected Update Time: 4/22 or 5/13**


	24. Space

_To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 21: Space

I was halfway through my exercises and feeling almost able to talk to Obi-Wan, when Saché reappeared at the door.

She said, "We're in orbit waiting for clearance and I cleaned the ship of all the bugs and trackers the troopers left behind. You should be set to come up to the cockpit, if you want."

"Thank you, Saché. That would be wonderful." Obi-Wan gave her a faint smile.

I continued my exercises.

"Yeah." Saché strode over to his cell and placed her hand on the bio scanner. A few seconds later, the forcefield flickered then faded. "Turn around and I'll get the binders."

"Oh, you don't have to. I've already taken them off." Obi-Wan lifted his hands in front of him as proof and then handed the binders to a gaping Saché. "Where are the younglings?" Obi-Wan asked.

"They're waiting just outside the cockpit," she answered. "Or at least they better be. They aren't great at following directions. I almost had a full-scale mutiny on my hands earlier."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yeah, 'oh'. Sabé, you alive?"

"Mainly," I said. "And I wouldn't say no to you taking my binders off. I just don't want to stand up yet."

"How is your leg?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Not amazing, but still attached. So. You know. Could be better, could be worse."

Saché deactivated the shields to my cell and stepped inside, crouching down behind me. "You have no idea how much I wanted to blast that moron stormtrooper," she said. "The peace officer literally just told him about your leg and then—" she made an angry noise as she unlocked me.

I pulled my hands in front of me and carefully began to flex them, determinedly ignoring her gaze as she walked back around me. My face was beginning to heat up but I did my best to ignore it. Stupid leg. I began to massage it.

"No one seemed to remember. That same peace officer nearly made her fall over earlier." Obi-Wan's voice seemed to have a small bite to it. But when I glanced up at him, he looked as calm as ever.

"Speaking of peace officers," I smiled winningly as I changed the subject, "I'm pretty sure mine thought I was Padmé. Or that I was working for her. Or, at the very least, that I was not Satty the child smuggler."

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. "Officer Mune seemed to believe the same. It would seem he found some irregularities in Satty and Ben's paperwork. He spent most of the flight attempting to interrogate me."

"Attempting?" I asked, pushing hard at a knot and hissing as it loosened.

"Yes. Attempting."

"Well, that was a helpful explanation." Saché rolled her eyes. "Do you two think they'll report us?"

"Not sure, but if I had to guess, I don't think so. They already had their chance, didn't they?" I said, carefully flexing my knee.

"I am uncertain about Officer Moonway but Officer Mune is no longer suspicious," Obi-Wan answered.

Saché and I both turned to look at him. He smiled blandly.

"Jedi," Saché muttered before turning back to me. "You good, Sabé?"

My leg still burned more than a little, but the hard metal floor was also starting to hurt. "Good enough. Mind giving me a hand?"

Two hands immediately stretched towards me. A small smile crossed my face as I grabbed Obi-Wan's hand with my left and Saché's hand with my right.

"Aww, I get two hands? Thanks, guys. Count of three? One, two, three!"

I pushed into the ground with my good leg as Obi-Wan and Saché pulled. With only one grunt of pain and two minor losses of balance, I made it to my feet. Once I got my cane situated, we began to make our way out of the brig and up to the main level. Saché pretty much ignored me once I was on my feet, striding forward with no hesitation. Obi-Wan, however, seemed to hover at my elbow, although when I shot him a suspicious look he seemed so casual and unaffected that I couldn't be sure.

"The port authority said we have about two hours in orbit before we can take off to lightspeed," Saché said as she led the way to the cockpit. "Then it's another two hours to Alderaan—"

"Alderaan?" I interrupted. "I thought we were going to Naboo?"

"Got to keep up the cover story. Besides, Padmé wanted me to—"

"Padmé! You've spoken to Padmé! Is she okay? Where is she? Did her and Anakin make it off Coruscant or—?"

"They're fine, they're on Naboo, and I don't know much more than that," Saché interrupted me. "We're trying to keep communication very minimal, since Yané blew up her secure connection thingy and now we're mainly relying on the Queen's private link. Which, you know. Risky. Don't even want to think about what would happen if we accidentally implicate her in this."

"How do you have access to the Queen's link?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Rabé's her cousin," Saché answered. "But anyway, apparently, both the Queen and Padmé think that we need to talk to the Organas. I'm supposed to try and suss out how they're feeling about the state of the galaxy and maybe set up some covert meetings, depending on how things go."

I stared at her. Saché had a lot of strong points, but subtlety had never been one of them.

"Um, how exactly are you planning on, uh, 'sussing out' if the Organas have rebellious tendencies?" I asked cautiously.

Saché huffed and turned around so she could roll her eyes at me. "Stop worrying Sabé. Eirtaé gave me very, _very_ specific instructions on what to do and not to do."

"And, uh, are you planning to _follow_ those—?" Even as the words were coming out of my mouth I was wincing.

Saché stopped in her tracks to give me a very pointed and very unimpressed look.

"Right, sorry," I muttered.

"Just because Eirtaé drives me up the wall sometimes doesn't mean I can't recognize when she's talking sense. Anyway, it shouldn't be—" As Saché grabbed an exposed pipe and swung herself around the next corner, she cut herself off with an annoyed huff. "Seriously, brats? Didn't I tell you to stay _out_ of the cockpit?"

"Why are we going to Alderaan? Master Kenobi and Miss Sabé said we were going to Naboo." Sors's voice was laced with ill-concealed suspicion.

I picked up speed, narrowly avoided staggering into the wall thanks to Obi-Wan's fast reflexes, disentangled myself from his grasp after giving him a small nod of acknowledgement and then slowly made my way around the corner.

Sors, Zett, and, strangely enough, Trinna and Shia, faced down Saché from inside the cockpit. Trinna looked like she was attempting to burrow herself into the pilot seat while Shia was all but hiding behind it. Sors was standing by the navigational maps and had his arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Zett had angled himself to be a step or two in front of Sors and would have seemed calm if his hand wasn't hovering over his lightsaber.

The rest of the children were crowded into the hallway directly before the cockpit. They were also facing Saché, although, since I couldn't see their faces, I wasn't sure what they were thinking. The baby, though, was whining in Tobe's arms and Meral was clinging tightly to Lelila, burying her face in the older girl's shirt.

"We're taking a side trip," I said, pasting a smile on my face.

As one, all the children spun towards me.

"Miss Sabé!" Trinna shrieked, throwing herself out of the pilot's chair.

Before I even had time to blink, she burst through the crowd of kids, barreling towards me. Oh no, my poor leg. I braced for impact. But she skidded to a stop barely a step away from me. She swayed towards me and then, with what looked like an effort of will, swayed back. Her hands trembled as she brought them up to fiddle with her skirt. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying but she stayed two steps away from me, her face slowly turning red as she threw an anxious glance back at the other children and then over my shoulder at Obi-Wan.

There couldn't be much left of my heart to break.

I braced my cane in a good spot and opened my free arm to her. "Come here."

Her eyes darted over my shoulder again before, slowly, she took the final steps towards me. Carefully, she wrapped her arms around me. I gave her the warmest hug I could manage. For a moment, she stayed stiff. Then, her grip tightened and she leaned further into me. I kept hugging her.

"It is certainly good to see all of you again." Obi-Wan neatly stepped around me and Trinna, who had started to shake in my arms.

"The peace officers didn't hurt you, did they?" Zett demanded. "Or give you over to the clones to question or—or—?"

"No," Obi-Wan said. "Everything went quite smoothly, despite our... unexpected guests."

"Are they going to follow us, Master Obi-Wan?" Sors stepped forwards, eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't believe so, but it's impossible to say for sure." Obi-Wan sounded very calm.

"I hate them," Jewsi said, her voice tight. "They were supposed to be our friends and they killed Irie and Becks. Becks thought they were so cool—he was always saying he wished—I hate all of them!" Jewsi held her chin high and her mouth pressed tightly together as she tried to blink her tears away.

My shirt was slowly getting wet and, at Jewsi's words, Trinna's arms tightened around me even further as her shaking worsened and quiet sobs began to escape. I rubbed gentle circles in her back. It was such a small action. How could this be all I could do?

For a moment, the only sound in the cockpit was Trinna trying to stifle her cries.

Then Obi-Wan said, voice heavy, "I understand why you would feel that way. It is—very difficult, trying to understand a betrayal of such magnitude. But hate—it is not the way of the Jedi."

Jewsi made an angry noise. The baby let out a loud wail.

"But perhaps now is not the best time to speak of it." Obi-Wan raised his voice to be heard over the crying baby. "The last few days have been very trying for all us. Saché, how long did you say it would be until we jump to lightspeed?"

Saché startled. "In a little over an hour now, probably. And then it's a two hour trip to Alderaan, with probably less than an hour in orbit and only an hour or two on planet. We're doing the flight to Naboo in five jumps instead of the usual two, just to be safe, but we'll have immediate landing clearance, so, with any luck, we'll be on Naboo in, oh, eight or nine hours, I'd say. And can someone get that baby to be quiet?"

As if he knew he was being spoken about, the infant let out a particularly ear-piercing yowl.

Obi-Wan gave the children a quick once over. Then he said, "Lelila, Shia, would you mind taking Meral and the baby to—where would be a good place, Saché?"

"There's a small communal space down the corridor a bit. It's the first left," Saché said.

"Would you, please?" Obi-Wan turned back to Lelila and Shia.

Shia crept out from behind the pilot's chair. She sent Jewsi an anxious look and then looked at Lelila. Lelila was busy having a silent conversation with Sors, consisting entirely of pointed expressions and animated eyebrows. After they finished, she nodded at Shia and then turned and nodded at Obi-Wan.

"I'll take the baby, Lelila, if you have Meral," Shia said.

After a brief moment where Lelila and Shia grabbed their charges, the four children left the cockpit. The baby's cries grew quieter and less overwhelming as they left.

"Where will we be while you're on Alderaan?" Obi-Wan asked

"Just wait on the ship," Saché shrugged. "I fly in and out of Alderaan all the time—they don't check the _Hidden Queen_ unless I'm taking something off ship."

"I see," Obi-Wan said. "Younglings, have you any other questions?"

There was a small pause where the children exchanged looks. Even Trinna loosened her grip on me enough to send a tearful look over her shoulder at the others.

She hiccupped and scrubbed at her eyes with one hand. Then she asked quietly, "Are—are you sure the Queen's going to accept us? She's not—she won't be angry you brought us to Naboo, will she?"

"No, Trinna, of course not!" I hurried to reassure her, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "The Queen knows and is fully supportive of our actions. The Jedi helped save Naboo, once. We aren't the type to forget something like that. She just has to be careful about how much she does publicly. But don't worry about Naboo. We'll be safe there, I promise."

"For a while, at least," Obi-Wan said. "We should have enough time to regroup and plan our next course of action, at the very least. Does anyone have more questions?"

No one said anything.

"Excellent. Saché, have you anywhere we might freshen up or change our clothes? I must admit, I don't want to wear this particular outfit any longer than I need to." Obi-Wan offered her a small smile.

"Yeah, can't say I blame you. Those colors—wow." Saché shook her head. "Also, kids, I really don't want you guys getting dirt on my ship. Wicaté did too good of a job making you look grimy. There's a sonic shower in the fresher at the end of hall. If you kids could all step in there and give yourself a quick sonic, that'd be great. Wicaté did give me fresh clothes for everyone during our 'secret meeting', including you two, Ambassador; Sabé. I stashed it in a hidden compartment, but I'll pull it out for you once I do a quick double check on the ship and see where we are in the line for lightspeed. I've got some food for you guys and the baby too, if you're hungry."

"Thanks, Saché." I smiled at my old friend.

Saché shrugged. "No problem. Now, everyone? Out of the cockpit."

After exchanging a look, the children did as she said, with Obi-Wan and I following close behind. Saché made quick work of double checking the ship and finding the clothes. The children took a little longer in the sonic and Obi-Wan took the chance to give everyone another medical once over. By the time the kids had all gotten clean and changed, we had made our first jump to lightspeed. By the time Obi-Wan and I had gotten the dye out of our hair and changed into more normal clothes, they had also settled themselves into the communal space.

Obi-Wan and I stood at the doorway, watching them.

"Doesn't look like we'll fit, does it?" I murmured, biting back a smile.

The communal space was not very large. There were two benches lining the walls to our left and right. Jewsi lay across one, her knees bent up and an arm flung over her eyes. Trinna curled into the space left at her feet, smiling down at Shia and the baby, who played on the floor below the bench. Across from the girls, Meral sprawled on one end of the bench, sound asleep. On the other end, Zett bent intently over a datapad he had gotten from who knew where. The wall in front of us wasn't so much a wall as a recessed alcove with a dejarik table sticking out of it. As best as I could tell, Tobe and Adan had teamed up against Lelila and Sors. None of the children seemed to know quite how to play but they were gamely trying anyway.

Obi-Wan looked out at the children and then yawned.

"When was the last time you slept?" I asked, turning my attention back towards him.

Obi-Wan slanted a look my way. "A while ago."

"Saché has a crew dorm, you know," I told him. "It's got four bunks. You could crash in one; I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

He said nothing as he continued to survey the kids.

"Obi-Wan." I placed a hand on his arm. "Get some sleep. We're in hyperspace. I'll keep an eye on them to make sure they don't get into any trouble."

Obi-Wan turned towards me. For a moment, he just studied me as I tried to stop fidgeting and look competent. Then, with a small sigh, he ran a hand over his face.

"Perhaps that would be for the best. We've still a long road before us, after all. Where did you say the bunks were?"

I gave him the directions and watched as he disappeared to find them. For a moment, I worried. Obi-Wan had rarely been anything but calm throughout this entire disaster. It couldn't possibly be healthy, not after losing almost everything. But, then again—I looked back at the little Jedi. Maybe he didn't have much of a choice.

Sighing, I forced thoughts of Obi-Wan from my mind and entered the room. Saché left the cockpit and joined me a few minutes later. The time passed quickly, as I made an effort to lose myself by catching up on all of the adventures Saché had gone on since I'd last seen her. She gave me several very knowing looks but told me all of her stories anyway. Even the ones she maybe shouldn't have told with children in earshot.

Before I knew it, Saché had to leave to pull us out of lightspeed. We'd arrived in Alderaanian airspace.

By this point, the baby, Tobe, Adan, Shia and Trinna had all joined Jewsi and Meral in dreamland. Lelila and Sors, who had figured out dejarik after a few pointers, were in the middle of a game. The two friends quietly traded good-natured taunts across the table in between munching on pastries. Zett studied his datapad, just like he had for practically the whole journey.

I sat on a small cargo crate right next to the door. Sighing, I carefully leaned my head back against the wall. My eyes drifted shut. For a moment, I relished the quiet and the darkness. Then I forced my eyes back open and my head off the wall.

We weren't out of the woods yet. And I had promised Obi-Wan I'd keep an eye on the children. I glanced back around the room. Nothing had changed to my left. Nothing had change in front of me. Nothing had changed to the right. No. Wait. I blinked.

Zett had put his datapad down and was now looking at me.

"Zett?" My eyebrows rose.

He frowned at me and then frowned down at the datapad.

"Is everything okay?" I kept my voice low to avoid disturbing the others.

Zett looked back up at me. "Nothing is okay. I've been searching the holonet." He held up the datapad. "Nothing is okay."

"The holonet?" I asked cautiously. "Why were you searching the holonet?"

"I wanted to understand."

"Understand what?" My stomach, though, was sinking. Should I have monitored his datapad use? What had he all seen on the holonet? What horrible things were being reported?

"Don't." Zett's face twisted into something desperately unhappy. "Don't pretend you don't know. You do. I can feel that you do."

Feel? For a moment, I just stared at him. How could he feel that I knew? It dawned on me. The Force. Inwardly, I swore. What else could Zett feel with the Force? And what could I say to Zett to make it clear I hadn't been trying to lie or talk down to him?

"I can guess at most of it," I said slowly, buying myself time to think, "But I don't know exactly what you were looking for, Zett. And I don't know what you found. There haven't really been too many chances to catch up on the news, you know." My smile was halfhearted, at best.

"I wanted to know why the clones betrayed us. I wanted to know why no one stopped them and why we have to hide." Zett gently put the datapad on the bench by Meral's feet. "Now I wish I didn't."

I hesitated. Then I said, "I only know some of it, myself. I know Palpatine crowned himself Emperor and said that the Jedi were traitors. I know the clones attacked you because they were ordered to. Did you find out anything else?"

Zett slowly leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees, joining his hands in front of him and stubbornly staring at them. "People are happy the war is over. They're saying the Chancellor—no, the _Emperor_ is the reason the war is over. Some of them are saying it would have been finished more quickly if—if it weren't for the Jedi." Zett looked up at me, his eyes wide and devastated. "They're glad we're gone, Miss Sabé. They're _glad_ the clones killed us. Glad. I don't understand. All we ever did was try to help people. Why are they happy we died? Why are they happy that—" Zett, whose voice had gradually been growing louder, fell abruptly silent.

"Zett," I began, not knowing what to say, but knowing I had to say something. "It's not—"

"Strap in, everyone. We've got less than five minutes until landing and atmo is going to be a bit rough."

I whipped my head around just in time to see Saché swing into the room.

"Or," she sighed, "I'll buckle up the sleeping brats while the awake ones buckle themselves up. And you," she gave me a pointed look, "start making your way to the cockpit. There's an extra seat in there—the cargo box is not going to cut it."

I turned back to Zett. He didn't meet my eyes, instead focused wholly on strapping in, giving the task far more attention than it needed.

"Sabé?" Saché gave me a stern look as she carefully maneuvered Jewsi into a sitting position.

"Right," I muttered. Zett would have to wait until later. Which wasn't fair, but, then again, none of this was.

In what felt like no time at all, the _Hidden Queen_ touched down at the Alderaanian Royal Space Port. Outside, thunder rolled and, inside, rain splattered against the viewport, blurring the view of the spaceport's walls and almost totally obscuring the mountains soaring behind them.

"Right," Saché said, spinning the pilot's chair around. "Keep the brats in the communal area and pray Obi-Wan stays asleep. I'll tell them I'm travelling with a friend of mine to explain why the engines are still running temperature control, so don't worry about people seeing you. The others should stay out of sight, though. Padmé's almost certain the Organas are on our side but better safe than sorry, yeah?"

Without waiting for an answer, Saché got up and strode out of the cockpit.

"Shouldn't be too long," she threw over her shoulder before disappearing.

The rain continued its attack on the viewport. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I ran out of hair way too soon.

"Right," I muttered. "Haircut." At least it was no longer blonde.

For a moment, I watched the rain. Then, I stood up and headed back towards the communal area. My pace was purposefully slow.

What should I say to Zett? I didn't understand any better than he did, even with the added benefit of an outside perspective. Sure, some people found the Jedi to be cold and thought that the Jedi should have ended the war sooner. But that still didn't justify genocide. Nothing justified genocide. And the fact that I probably couldn't even get away with telling Zett a small but comforting lie…the Force certainly did complicate things. I made a mental note that if I was going to spend so much time around little Jedi, I really had to get a better grasp on what it could do, exactly.

The door to the communal area approached too soon. I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders and stepped inside.

Lelila and Sors glanced up from their game as I entered. I smiled at them. Then, I turned to face Zett—who, apparently, had 'fallen asleep' sometime during the landing. I sighed. If he didn't want to talk about it now, I wouldn't make him. Later. I could talk to him later.

"Miss Sabé?" Sors asked. "Are we safe here? Do you really think it's a good idea to just wait on the ship?"

I lowered myself down onto my crate, with both Sors and Lelila watching my every move.

"I do, yeah. Saché is here on diplomatic business—it's unofficial, maybe, but Queen Apailana got her into see Queen Breha and the Senator, so it's not _that_ unofficial. Both planets know what's going on. Besides, the Alderaanians have always been honorable—I don't think they'd invade our privacy even if Saché was just here as a regular bounty hunter. And since she's basically an ambassador… as long as we stay out of sight and don't give the Alderaanians too much to be suspicious about, we shouldn't have any problems."

"How well do you know the Organas?" Sors continued, crossing his legs on the bench and leaning in towards me. "Shia was talking earlier and she said Senator Organa and Senator Amidala were on opposite sides for lots of political things."

"That's true," I agreed slowly. "They have opposed each other quite a few times in the Senate. But—" I paused, trying to find a way to explain myself. "I don't pretend to know Senator Organa particularly well, but, from what I remember, he and Padmé nearly always agreed on the goal. It was just the methods where they differed."

Sors frowned while Lelila just stared

"What?" Sors began. "How could they have the same goals but not the same— oof!"

Lelila removed her elbow from Sors' side and rolled her eyes at him before turning towards me. "Miss Sabé, do you think they want us dead?"

I blinked. A pattern was emerging. Lelila might not speak often but, when she did, she never failed to throw me off balance.

"That's—" I struggled. "I don't want to—it's impossible to know someone else's mind and— that is, if I had to guess, I'd say no."

Sors and Lelila exchanged looks that I couldn't quite read.

"Thanks for being honest," Sors said, once he finally looked away from Lelila.

"Of course?"

There was a moment of silence. Should I say something else?

However, before I could decide, Saché bounded into view. "Alright, all done. Back to the cockpit we go."

I stared at her, unnerved. Saché's hair was plastered to her head, her shirt was dripping a puddle on the floor and her smile was big enough to break her face.

"Well, that was quick," I said, slowly coming back up to my feet.

"Yeah, well, ten seconds after I showed up in their receiving room or whatever they call it, Master Yoda strolled in and told me it was unsafe for so many Force—signatures? Is it signatures?—to be in the same place at one time and that we had to leave, pronto. So. This is us. Leaving. Pronto."

Wait, what?

"Master Yoda is here?" Zett demanded, suddenly sitting bolt upright and looking wide awake.

"Little green guy? Strange walking stick? Very expressive ears? That sound like him?" A bark of exhilarated laughter burst from Saché.

"Is he going to meet us on Naboo? Was he okay? What did he say about the others? Are there others?" Sors's words came out so fast they were practically tripping on each other.

"That's a lot of questions for not a lot of time. The Grand Master of the Jedi Order," Another, possibly hysterical, laugh escaped Saché, "says we have to leave this very instant, so we're leaving this very instant. Come on, Sabé, we've got orders."

She grabbed my arm and began to physically drag me behind her, although she at least had the courtesy to go slow enough that I could keep up.

"Yoda?" I asked faintly.

"Yeah. Weird day," she told me absently before shouting over her shoulder, "We'll chat later!"

But Saché did not chat with the children later, much to their consternation. Instead, she spent the remainder of our journey in the cockpit, calculating lightspeed jumps. Instead of the planned five jumps, we made fourteen. Saché also threatened to throw Zett, Sors and Lelila into brig if they kept interrupting her. Jewsi and Adan got jump sick and spent most of the time puking in the fresher. Shia, Trinna, and Tobe spent their time hovering outside the fresher, seemingly torn between wanting to comfort their friends and not wanting to get covered in vomit. In theory, I spent the jumps taking care of the baby and entertaining Meral.

In actuality, I spent most of my time making sure Jewsi and Adan weren't getting too dehydrated, talking Saché down from her original plan of twenty-seven jumps, and attempting to convince Zett, Sors and Lelila that bothering the suddenly paranoid Saché was not going to do anyone any good. It was just that I did all that while bouncing a fussy infant in my arms and telling Meral increasingly bad knock-knock jokes.

Obi-Wan, somehow, slept through the entire debacle.

Finally, after nearly seventeen hours that felt a bit more like seventeen years, we broke atmosphere over Naboo. As Saché smoothly took us down towards the planet, I found myself eagerly leaning forward, the infant cradled in my arms.

Slowly, the black of space transitioned into an endless blue sky meeting an endless blue sea, the color broken only by the white caps of the waves. As Saché swung us towards the great continent, I craned my head back to the ocean, watching the waves crest and break. Then, the peaks of the Gallo Mountains were racing past below us, their sharp points softened by the verdant green that covered them. The _Hidden Queen_ descended further as we left the mountains in our wake. We followed the winding blue paths of the rivers, flew over waterfalls as they crashed soundlessly to the earth, saw specks of white resolve into a tiny herd of gualamas galloping over the plains and there, in the distance— blue-green roofs.

I breathed as the _Hidden Queen_ slowed, circling my city. The rivers placidly wove around the elegant buildings, finding their way to the lakes the city was built around. The graceful domes of the palace presided over it all, as elegant and beautiful as always.

Saché curved away from the palace towards the outskirts, gently directing the _Hidden Queen_ to a small spaceport. As she landed without so much as a bump, the baby in my arms let out a gurgling laugh. Smiling at the little togruta in my arms, I carefully bopped his nose as he let out another giggle.

"Yes, little one, that's right," I cooed. "Welcome to Naboo. Welcome home."

 **Expected Update time: May 27 or June 17**


	25. Arriving

**A/N: Hope you guys are all doing well! As an FYI, I've finally had the chance to go back and fix some stuff that you guys pointed out to me so, super minor edits to chapters 4, 11, and 13. The edits don't change the story at all, so no worries, just a head's up :) Also, I no longer know which of you guys pointed those things out because I make sloths look fast but I still wanted to say thank you! So, you know, thanks! (also, pretty sure this chapter and I are in mutual hate. urgh. at least it's done. But ugh)  
**

 _To Change the Galaxy_

Chapter 22: Arriving

A speeder bus was waiting for us just outside the spaceport. After Saché and I successfully ferried the children off the _Hidden Queen_ and onto the bus, I went to wake up Obi-Wan.

I found him in the crew dorm, wide awake and meditating. Or, at least, I assumed he was meditating. He sat cross-legged on the floor, his hands on his knees and his eyes shut. His breathing was steady.

For a moment, I stood watching him. Maybe the Force would alert him to my presence? Then I wouldn't have to interrupt. But as seconds slipped by, he only continued to breathe. Maybe the Force couldn't act as an intruder alarm after all. Either that, or he was ignoring me. It didn't matter, though. Naboo might be decently safe for the Jedi, but our luck had been terrible lately. Now was not the time to take too many chances.

So, with a small sigh, I knocked gently on the doorframe. Obi-Wan didn't so much as shift positions. With a louder sigh, I rapped the doorframe sharp enough to sting my knuckles. As I shook my hand out and muttered a quiet curse, Obi-Wan continued to breathe deeply and evenly.

Seriously?

"Obi-Wan," I called.

Nothing.

"Obi-Wan!" When he showed no signs of moving, I stuffed away my sympathy, gathered my annoyance and stepped into the room.

I grabbed his shoulder and gave him a good shake. Finally, he shifted. After a few more seconds, he blinked up at me.

"Welcome back. We've landed. Saché and the children are waiting for us on a speeder bus. You ready?"

He blinked at me again, confusion flickering across his face.

I frowned at him. "We're on Naboo?" I prompted. "Meeting up with Padmé and Anakin?" I ignored the small flutter of concern in my stomach. One step at a time.

The confusion cleared. "Of course," Obi-Wan said. "Of course. Weren't we going to stop on Alderaan first?"

"We did. You slept through it. Or meditated through it. Did you actually sleep at all? Please tell me you did."

"I did."

"Hmm. Alright. Come on, then. Let's go. Got to find out what those wayward friends of ours have been up to."

I turned around and went back towards the door. But there was no sound behind me. I looked back. Obi-Wan still sat on the floor, blinking at me.

"You okay?" I gave him a quick once over. His clothes were a little rumpled, his hair wasn't entirely in order and his face looked odd without the beard. But other than that, nothing seemed amiss. His eyes were sharp and the bags underneath them had finally receded. Not enough, probably, but he definitely looked better than he had before.

"Yes. Yes, of course. My apologies." Obi-Wan rose to his feet gracefully and walked towards me.

"You sure?" I sent him another glance as we walked down the corridors.

"I am as okay as can be expected, Sabé." Obi-Wan sighed. "Do you suppose Anakin and Padmé had more or less trouble than we did?"

"Less, hopefully. Although, with those two…"

We exchanged significant looks.

"Quite," Obi-Wan agreed with another sigh.

As we walked down the ramp and out into the beautiful spring day, Obi-Wan turned back towards me.

"Did Saché find out anything important during her side trip?"

"Yeah, about that…" I glanced at Obi-Wan out of the corner of my eye. He seemed calm. And hopefully this would be good news? "The meetings were, uh, very short. Basically nonexistent. Because Saché ran into Master Yoda, who apparently kicked us off planet."

I kept my eyes forward for a few more steps before I finally worked up the courage to look at Obi-Wan to gauge his reaction. Only Obi-Wan wasn't there. I frowned then turned around. Obi-Wan stood, frozen, midstep.

Oh no.

I hurried back to him, carefully putting my hand on his arm. "Obi-Wan?"

"Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan asked faintly. "He's alive?"

"Yeah. Saché saw him. Apparently the Organas are sheltering him on Alderaan. He didn't want us to stay, because he was afraid of attracting attention to Alderaan. At least, I'm pretty sure that was the gist of it."

Which, now that I said it out loud, was a pretty worrying gist. Anything that worried Grand Master Yoda had to be pretty bad. Did Yoda think the little Jedi and Obi-Wan would stand out too much on Alderaan? And if he did, wouldn't they stand out on Naboo too? Actually, did he even know about Obi-Wan and the Jedi children? I was pretty sure Saché wouldn't have said anything about them to anyone. Maybe the Force had somehow let him know. But could it even do that? Or was I worrying about completely the wrong thing? I thought Force signatures had something to do with people but...

Not learning more about the Force from Anakin and Obi-Wan in our years of friendship was obviously a mistake. Inwardly, I cursed.

Obi-Wan wasn't saying anything—he just stared at me. He had, however, at least finished his step so his feet were now even with mine. Small progress was better than no progress, I guessed. But still—

"Obi-Wan, why don't we keep—?"

Before I could finish my sentence, though, Saché apparently got impatient.

"Come on, you slugs! We haven't got all day!" Saché had stuck her head outside of the bus and was scowling at us.

I grimaced. "Right." I turned to Obi-Wan but before I could do anything, he gave me a polite smile and began walking again.

We boarded the bus without exchanging another word.

"Master Obi-Wan!" Zett bolted upright out of his seat. "Master Yoda's alive!"

All the children's eyes locked onto Obi-Wan. He smiled at them politely as I carefully lowered myself into the passenger seat next to Saché.

"So I heard. But, for now, perhaps it's best to keep quiet about that. Naboo may be safe, but let's not get reckless," he chided them gently as he sat down in the first row of seats.

Zett plopped back down, brow furrowing. However, no one said anything else. In the silence, Saché started the speeder. The start of the trip was unnervingly silent. As Saché eased the bus out of the spaceport and pointed us towards downtown Theed, the baby began to whimper. When I glanced behind me, the children did not look happy. They looked frightened and angry. They had spent way too much time being frightened and angry.

"Well!" I pasted a bright smile onto my face. "This is Naboo, everyone! Theed, to be specific. Have any of you heard of Theed before?"

The children blinked at me.

"What a travesty," I clucked, trying to sound as much like I was joking as I could. "Theed is the capital city of the planet of Naboo. It is also home to four universities, twelve galaxy-class museums and, most importantly, it's where I was born. Right now, we're on the western outskirts of the city, where all the disgustingly rich people live. I was born in the eastern outskirts, where the less fortunate but more creative people live. Be lucky we didn't land there. This part of the city is much prettier than my home district. If you look to your left, actually, you'll see an unbelievably ornate mansion that was built by Torne Le'Sheh, a business tycoon with the misfortune of being born somewhere other than Naboo. You can tell, because that particular mansion is very gaudy looking and has way more gargoyles on it than any _city_ needs, much less one house. If you look to your right, now, you'll see a classic Naboo style mansion. Note the green dome, the clean lines of the walls and the absurd number of plants decorating the place."

Saché gave me a look that clearly indicated that she thought I was out of my mind. But Obi-Wan's polite look had faded to confused amusement. Sors and Lelila were exchanging baffled looks, Zett's eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline and Jewsi's brows were furrowed. But Trinna eagerly looked back and forth at the two houses I had indicated, the baby wasn't whimpering and no one looked frightened or angry.

Forcing my smile to widen even further, I continued to give my best tour guide impression, pointing out anything that was vaguely noteworthy and a lot of things that weren't noteworthy in the slightest. Whenever I ran out of breath or found myself at a complete loss of things to babble about, I asked if there were any questions.

Trinna always had at least two for me.

Jewsi had only had one, the very first time I asked for questions: "Why are you doing this?"

But, as my tour went on, even Jewsi began to look reluctantly interested. As we got closer to the heart of Theed, it became much easier to think of stories or tidbits to share. My story of the time Saché, Yané and I had gotten kicked out of one of the pastry shops we passed even got a small laugh from the kids and a genuine Obi-Wan grin.

Finally, though, Saché pulled the speeder bus into a parking spot just before the Palace Plaza.

"And here we are!" I said cheerfully. "Just a block away is the Palace Plaza, where the Theed Royal Place is located." I turned to Saché. "Are we—where are we going from here?"

"We have a tour of the palace planned," she said. "The Queen graciously opened the palace to school children today. She's allowing them to see all the wings."

The Queen never allowed anyone to see all the wings. No monarch in the history of Naboo had ever let anyone see all the wings. Even if they had wanted to, security would have thrown a fit. The Queen actively lived in one of the wings. It was far too dangerous to let people tour it.

I sent Saché a sideways look. "Is she?"

"Yes, she is. Well," Saché gave me a sly grin, "She's letting seven lucky tour groups, anyway. There's going to be a raffle. One group will win a tour every day this week."

"Fascinating. Suppose we should throw our hat in the ring then, huh?"

Saché waggled her eyebrows at me. I snorted, rolling my eyes at her.

"What's going on?" Sors asked carefully.

"We're going to try and win a full tour of the palace," I said, smiling widely at the kids. "So, everyone off the speeder bus! No time to waste."

The kids, after exchanging glances amongst themselves, got off the bus.

Obi-Wan lingered behind, his eyes flickering back and forth between Saché and myself.

Saché grinned. "Just follow my lead, ambassador. Follow my lead." Then, she swaggered off the bus.

"Probably should have thought to ask her about the rest of the plan at some point," I muttered to Obi-Wan. "But I guess they've kept us safe this far, right?"

"There is no reason to doubt them now," Obi-Wan agreed. "Although I must admit, I'm getting a bit tired of surprises."

"You and me, both." With that, I carefully exited the speeder bus, with Obi-Wan behind me.

Once off the bus, I resumed my role as tour guide, although Saché continued to lead us in the right direction. Less than an hour later, we had found a hover bassinet for Meral and the baby. We had also 'won' the raffle.

Two security guards led us into the foyer of the palace. Behind me, one of the children gasped. I looked behind me to see Trinna staring, awestruck, up at the ceiling. She elbowed Shia and then Jewsi, who both followed her gaze. Shia let out another gasp of her own while Jewsi's mouth dropped. Before I knew it, all the children were staring up in awe.

I glanced up at the vaulting ceiling myself, my eyes flickering over the beautifully painted images of past monarchs performing varying feats. But I felt no awe. Seeing King Jafan directing the construction of the palace and Queen Evalana ride into battle against the Gungans just left me with a small ache in my chest. Back when life was simpler, these paintings had been a part of my everyday life—they hadn't been priceless works of art. They had just been home. I looked away from the ceiling and blinked a little.

The guards were nowhere to be seen. Instead, three graceful figures in shapeless hooded cloaks stood before us.

"Welcome to the Royal Palace," the middle figure said, her voice calm and sweet.

"We are three of Queen Apailana's royal handmaidens," the one on the far left said, sounding equally calm.

"We have the honor of escorting you through the palace today," the one of the far right said just as calmly as the others.

"Unfortunately, due to security reasons, only the children will be allowed to go through the entire palace. We must ask that the adults remain in the day room."

"What? No!"

I turned around to see that Jewsi had torn her eyes away from the ceiling in order to glare at the handmaidens.

"We're staying with them," she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Jewsi," I said, "They're handmaidens. You'll be safe with them."

"But what about you? And him?" Jewsi jerked her head at Obi-Wan. Then she shook it. "No. I don't like it."

"Oh, for the love of—" Saché dug in her pocket and produced two comm links. "Here." She strode over to Jewsi and offered her the link. "You get one, we get one. Comm us when you get worried and we'll comm you if we get worried."

Jewsi stared at the link suspiciously.

"Will you let us comm them?" Zett asked the handmaidens.

The three girls exchanged looks and, in unison, nodded.

"Of course," one of them said.

"I still don't like it," Jewsi said stubbornly.

Shia elbowed her, frowning. But Zett and Sors looked just as skeptical as Jewsi.

"Come, children," Obi-Wan said, grabbing the comm link from Saché and passing it over to Zett, who, after a brief pause, took it.

The handmaidens exchanged glances, then gave small bows.

"Please, everyone, follow us to the day room."

As one, the handmaidens turned and glided across the foyer.

"Miss Sabé and Miss Saché were both handmaidens, as was Miss Wicaté," Obi-Wan quietly told the children as we crossed the foyer. "In my experience, the handmaidens of Naboo are entirely trustworthy and quite competent. You'll be safe with them."

"But why aren't you coming with us?" Zett asked just as quietly.

"The day room in the north wing has access to a network of secret passageways," I answered as the handmaidens turned left. "I imagine the Queen and Padmé—Senator Amidala, that is—will be waiting for us in the passages."

"And you're leaving us behind?" Sors looked betrayed.

"Of course not," Obi-Wan said. "You're simply playing a different part in the plan. You're maintaining our cover while Miss Saché, Miss Sabé and I collect the necessary information. Your part in the plan may not seem as interesting as what we're doing, but every role in important. In maintaining the charade that we're simply another tour group from a small school in rural Naboo, you're helping to ensure our safety on this planet. Can you do that for us?"

"I'm pretty sure Zett, Meral and the baby already ruined our cover," Jewsi shot back.

"Actually, no," I said. "In Naboo, children of different ages are frequently grouped together. We separate our classes by potential and interest, not by something as silly and inconsequential as age brackets. The baby's presence is, admittedly, a little out of the norm, but it's certainly not unheard of."

"You're telling the truth." Jewsi sounded shocked.

"The Naboo have quite a different view of adulthood and childhood that most other planets," Obi-Wan said, sounding his most diplomatic.

"A good view," Saché scowled at him. "The right view. The rest of you lot are very narrow minded."

Obi-Wan, wisely, said nothing.

Then, before the children could argue more, the handmaidens came to a stop.

"The day room," one of them said, keying open the door. "If you please…" she waved at the room, painted in cream and full of windows.

"Of course." I smiled at her and walked into the room. I turned back to the children and said, "Be good."

Obi-Wan and Saché followed me into the room. The children stared at us. Trinna bit her lip, hard. Zett clutched the comm link tightly in his hand. Sors and Lelila frowned at the handmaidens as Adan shuffled closer to Tobe.

"This way, please," a handmaiden said.

After a long pause, where I nodded at them encouragingly, the children turned to follow her. As they did, another handmaiden turned to us.

"I'm afraid I have to lock you in. However, there is a fresher over there and there are refreshments on the caf table." The she nodded at us and shut the door.

Saché and I exchanged looks and waited a beat.

"They're gone," Obi-Wan said after another minute.

"You're sure?" Saché's eyes narrowed.

Obi-Wan gave her a bland smile. "Quite."

"Over there." I nodded at the large fireplace to our left. Saché had already strode over to it and crouched down.

By the time Obi-Wan and I reached her, she had already pressed the correct bricks and the floor in front of the fireplace had disappeared. In its place was a metal lattice staircase descending into a poorly lit corridor.

"Urgh. I forgot about the stairs."

Obi-Wan sent me a sharp look. "Will you be able to—?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "it just won't be fun."

And it wasn't. But I made it down. Just in time to jump out of my skin when two more figures in shapeless hooded cloaks seemed to appear out of nowhere. They had the blank look of a handmaiden almost down cold, but I was still pretty sure they were inwardly laughing at me. Saché and Obi-Wan had not been nearly as surprised by their appearance as I was. Still, stuffing down my embarrassment, I followed them as they led us through the winding passages and up and down a stupid number of staircases.

The further we got, the more my leg hurt. Normally, I could handle a few staircases. But not today. The last week or so must have caught up with me because, today, with every step, my leg screamed. After two sets of stairs, Obi-Wan had taken hold of my good arm to help support me. After four sets of stairs, I had to lean on him so heavily I knew I wouldn't be standing without him. Around the fifth set of stairs, Saché started hovering behind me, her arms held slightly extended, like she was getting ready to catch me if I toppled.

My face was on fire, and I was torn between wanting to disappear and wanting to scream at everyone to leave me alone because I was a big girl and I could handle this on my own. But, much as I hated to admit it, I clearly couldn't handle walking on my own anymore, so I instead settled for letting out a litany of curse words as soon as I caught my breath enough to do it.

Just as I was starting to venture into the Huttese swears I had learned from Anakin, one of the handmaidens spoke up.

"This is the last set of stairs. The Queen and the Senator are waiting for you at the top."

I glared. Padmé was in on this? Why in the stars had she picked such a terrible location? She knew I had a bad leg! Why had she—I blinked at the stairs again.

I knew this staircase. I knew where it led. The pain seemed to recede a little.

"Are you ready?" Obi-Wan sent the staircase a look of his own.

"Yeah. Yeah, definitely."

Together, with more help from Obi-Wan that I wanted to admit, we made it to the top. And, almost immediately, the pain was worth it.

We were standing in a garden, encircled by a stone railing and filled with a riot of flowers. Three quarters of the garden was surrounded by a dense thicket of trees blocking the garden from the view of the palace and the city. Directly in front of us, though, the final quarter of the garden stood at the very edge of a cliff, overlooking an enormous lake. I swayed forward, itching to run to the railing overlooking the lake, eager to see the waterfalls that sprang into being on either side of garden and crashed into the water below.

I hadn't seen the whole galaxy and probably never would. But it didn't matter. Because there was nowhere in the known regions or the unknown that could possibly be better than the garden.

"Can you help me onto the railing, Obi-Wan? Please?"

Obi-Wan stared down at me, his eyes softening. A small, gentle smile began to creep across his face.

"Sabé!"

I blinked, looking away from Obi-Wan. And there—

"Padmé! You're safe!" I started to take a step but stopped with the first shift of my weight, hissing between my teeth.

Padmé's joy faded to concern. She hitched up her skirts and ran towards me as fast as she could while heavily pregnant with twins. Her stomach had, if possibly, gotten even bigger in the few days I hadn't seen her.

"What happened? Were you injured? Eirtaé promised you were fine. Was she—?"

"I am fine, Padmé. My leg has just had a rough time of it. How about you? Did you and Anakin have any trouble getting off planet? The clones didn't harass you, did they?"

"It was nothing more than we could handle," Padmé assured me as she came to a stop in front of me and Obi-Wan. "How about—?"

"Obi-Wan. Sabé." Anakin appeared at Padmé's shoulder, his face tight and the circles under his eyes as large and dark as they were the last time I saw him.

The anger I hadn't known I still had slipped away at the sight of him. He may have been a selfish moron who had put Padmé at greater risk, but he was also clearly still struggling. And it had turned out alright in the end, hadn't it?

"Anakin," I said warmly. "It's so good to see you. How are you?"

He didn't say a word. Instead, he stared over my head, his eyes fastened on Obi-Wan.

"I need to talk to you. Now," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan's smile disappeared entirely. Staring at Anakin, he suddenly looked two decades older.

"A moment, Anakin. Sabé needs—"

"Now!" Anakin barked, his face darkening

"It's fine, Obi-Wan," I hurried to reassure him. Only, of course, most of my weight was still on his arm. And Padmé was very, very pregnant. I hid a grimace and glanced around. Saché stood a few steps away from us, arms crossed over her chest. "Saché, can you—?"

"Obviously." Saché strode over. "Move over, Ambassador. I got her. We'll go talk to the Queen while you guys—do whatever it is you need to do."

When Obi-Wan looked back at me, I smiled encouragingly. He nodded once and then, with a little bit of maneuvering, he slipped away from me as Saché braced herself and helped me stay on my feet.

"Shall we then?" Obi-Wan's voice was too polite as he turned towards Anakin.

Anakin said nothing, just strode to the furthest corner of the garden, trampling flowers as he went. Obi-Wan, with heavy steps and slumped shoulders, followed him. My brow furrowed as I watched them walk away.

"Stars, Sabé," Saché grunted. "Can't you take any more of your own weight?"

But the pain in my leg was back in full force. "Not unless you want me on the grass."

"Great," she grumbled. "Where'd those star forsaken handmaidens go, anyway? Shouldn't they be with their Queen?"

"They are with Queen Apailana," Padmé said, pointing to a small cluster of benches in the middle of the garden. And, sure enough, two handmaidens flanked a tiny woman with dark hair and white face paint, the scar of remembrance cutting red across her lips.

"There is no way I'm getting Sabé over there," Saché said. And, as if to emphasis her point, my leg spasmed. Saché and I swore in unison as I locked my elbow, tightening my grip on her arm and my cane as I struggled to stay on my feet.

Padmé's happiness faded away entirely. Her eyes were dark with worry and my stomach roiled with guilt. If my stupid leg would just cooperate…

"Look, the railing's close." I jerked my head forward, where the railing blocked the garden off from an almost three-thousand-foot drop.

"You and that cursed railing." Saché rolled her eyes. "Fine. C'mon, Sabé. Can you get the Queen to come to us, Padmé?"

"Of course," she said.

"Let's hurry before my leg does something else stupid," I muttered to Saché as Padmé waddled away.

"No kidding."

Together, with a great deal of huffing and puffing and an enormous amount of luck, we reached the railing.

"Is it just—just me—" I gasped, "or is it—is it taller than—than it used to be?"

"I hate—you," Saché panted. "On three, try and—and jump, yeah?"

Unwilling to expend any more precious oxygen, I nodded. On three, Saché tried to lift me, I tried to jump, my leg gave out and I very nearly toppled backward over the railing and off the edge of the cliff. Saché gave my arm a hard yank. I slammed into the grass and the world went black.

 **Expected Update Time: Before July 15th or August 11th  
**


End file.
